They All Lived Story 20: Pushing Limits
by LadyWordsmith
Summary: Edward and Winry are about to become grandparents as Aldon becomes a father. Sara finally gets to confront Cal Fisher. Maes and Sara finally figure out their feelings. The world changes for the Elrics in a lot of different ways.


**January 14th****, 1950**

Edward was looking forward to this afternoon but also nervous. Aldon and Cassandra would be arriving on the train in Central today and coming to live with him and Winry for a little while. The couple of months since he and Winry had gotten the shocking news that their second child had gotten married and fathered a child – not _entirely_ in that order – had been a little hectic! Fortunately, it had also given them plenty of time to adjust to the situation.

Winry had gone from frustrated to accepting within a couple of days. After her first fits of temper – and a_ long _conversation with her son on the phone – she had actually started to get excited. That was a relief to Ed, who had been listening to her rant until then. Instead, the house had become a flurry of re-arranging to make room for two more adults and the coming baby.

Ed had chosen to simply stay out of Winry's way. Ethan had been smart enough to do the same thing, spending a lot of time assisting at the hospital under Doctor Stevenson now that his hand was better, or hiding out upstairs studying in the alchemy lab. Ed joined him in the lab regularly where they worked on transmutations, or on learning the Xing language, which was a _long_ process.

Really, it hadn't been difficult for Ed to adjust to the fact that Aldon had gotten married to the girl he'd started dating when he was still living at home. Cassandra was a pretty girl, sensible, talented, and Ed certainly had no objections to the match. The part he was still adjusting to was wrapping his mind around his own new role in all of this: _grandfather. _

Talking with Aldon on the phone the last couple of months felt a little like talking back through time to himself in the early months of Winry's first pregnancy. Ed listened sympathetically as his son regaled him with his adventures in learning to deal with nausea, food cravings, mood swings, and his own insecurities and worries about impending fatherhood. His son was nervous, excited, apprehensive, and a wide rainbow of emotions that Ed was only too familiar with!

In truth, Ed was looking forward to having his son home, to getting to know Cassandra better, and to being able to help make the next few months a positive time for them both.

Of course they had to arrive first. Ed had offered to pick them up from the train station, but Aldon informed him that Cassandra's folks wanted to do lunch and they would get dropped off afterwards. Well, Ed wasn't going to interfere in that side of things; naturally Cassandra's parents wanted to see them too.

"Getting anxious?" Winry asked him.

"A little," Ed admitted, looking up from the page he was having trouble concentrating on writing. He was trying to flesh out some of his notes on one of the chapters on the book Alphonse had suggested he write a few years back. He had been working on in it since and while it was_ almost_ finished there were still a few things he wanted to polish, and the last chapter was – in his opinion – far from complete. "Aldon sounded worried about meeting up with Cassandra's parents today though he insisted they wanted to."

"I would imagine they're a little torn about the whole thing too," Winry pointed out. "After all, she's_ their_ daughter. If it were some guy coming home with Sara, how would you feel?"

"You have a point." Ed winced. As sexist a double-standard as it seemed, he would probably want to throttle the guy on principle. Of course, he respected Sara enough to let her make her own decisions, but that was in good part because she was older than Aldon and Cassandra were and her decisions were so often similar to what _he_ would do. That wasn't something he had ever really worried about once she had proven herself sensible, even as a teenager. He knew Cassandra's parents were more conservative in their views though and he suspected there might be some friction there. "Still, they should be here soon. How's dinner coming?"

"I'll start it soon," Winry shrugged, winking at him. "There's no rush after all. Though I guess it turned into a pretty long conversation after lunch." It was mid-afternoon already.

Ed gave up on trying to write for the moment. "There's a lot to talk about," he replied. "Hey," it occurred to him then that he hadn't heard his other son around in at least an hour. "Where's Ethan?"

"Over at Lia's," Winry smiled. "He thought it might be a little less crazy if he was elsewhere for a while."

"For us or for him?" Ed chuckled. Actually it was probably a good idea given the nature of what would probably dominate the conversation for a while.

"For Aldon and Cassandra," Winry replied. "He'll be home for dinner of course. I think it was a good idea. It should make things a little less awkward."

Behind them, the doorbell rang. "Well," Ed smiled as he placed his hands on the table and stood. "I guess we're about to find out." He turned and together they went to the front door.

"Hey Dad, Mom," Aldon grinned at them from the front porch. He had his bag over his shoulder, a couple of other suitcases and steamer trunks on the ground beside him, and his arm protectively around Cassandra's shoulders. They both looked a little nervous. "We're here."

"I can see that," Ed grinned. "Well don't just stand out there on the porch," he stepped out and starting moving the trunks and bags sitting on the stoop.

Aldon visibly relaxed as he stepped into the house and Winry grabbed him up in a hug. "Welcome home," she smiled, "Both of you."

"Thanks, Mom," Aldon smiled back. "Sorry we took so long."

"Oh that's all right," Winry shook her head as they headed into the living room. Ed came along behind, closing the door and leaving the bags and trunks just inside it. They could go upstairs _later_. "As much as we might like to, we can't monopolize all your time. It's just nice to finally have you here instead of talking to you over the phone! Please sit down, get comfortable. How was the trip? Are you thirsty?"

"Sure," Aldon replied. "Tea's great."

"Water please," Cassandra said as Aldon offered his hand and they both sat down on the couch.

Ed watched the bemused expressions on the faces of his son and his new wife. Apparently, despite their conversations, the young couple had still been a little worried about how welcome they really would be at home. Ed couldn't blame them.

"You want something, Ed?" Winry asked.

"What? Oh sure. Tea's fine," Ed smiled, sitting down in the chair. Despite knowing what was coming, it was still a little mind-boggling to have them actually here and see for himself what was obviously a _very _different relationship from the one Ed remembered from when they were kids. As if Cassandra's obvious pregnancy didn't say that clearly enough! Ed knew she was five months pregnant, but with her slender frame it _looked _like more. "How was your trip?"

"Not bad," Aldon shrugged. "Pretty typical train ride, though we came back with a lot more cargo than we left with," he added, grinning.

"It's a good thing we already rearranged things then," Winry chuckled as she came back in with cups and set them down on the coffee table. "Since you'll be staying for a while, we thought it might be smarter for you to have your room, Aldon, and Ethan's as well for the baby. So Ethan agreed to move downstairs into the old guest room." Since that gave Ethan a bigger room and the downstairs bathroom to himself, he had been _happy_ to make the switch.

"Will we need two rooms?" Cassandra asked, looking startled.

Winry chuckled as she sat down on the other side of Aldon, picking up her own cup. "Trust me. You'll want someplace quiet to let a baby sleep where you don't have to worry about waking them. Since we have the space, you should use it. Besides, your room isn't big enough for everything you have and a baby."

"She has a point," Aldon agreed. "The room's bigger than our old one, Cassie, but not _that_ big. Thanks. We didn't mean to put you to any trouble."

"Trouble? Nah, it was nothing," Ed smiled. "You know your, Mom. She used it as an excuse to redecorate."

"Only a little," Winry admitted coyly. "I did clean the place, put on a fresh coat of paint, and reorganize the cellar. Don't worry," she chuckled when Aldon looked briefly alarmed. "I didn't throw anything away. It's all neatly packed away downstairs until you have your own place." They had already agreed that Aldon and Cassandra would stay until after the baby was born; there wasn't a time limit on the stay though.

Aldon breathed in relief, and Ed couldn't help but chuckle. "I don't know if we'll be able to afford anything big enough for all my old junk," Aldon admitted with a self-depreciating smile. "It'll be a lot of work to afford anything big enough for a family."

Winry caught Ed's eye with a '_do you want to tell them_' expression. Ed nodded. "Actually, I think we have a solution for that too; at least for a little while."

"Oh?" Aldon looked curious, but he clearly had no idea what Ed was referring to.

He was going to enjoy this! Ed nodded. "Sure. We thought you might like the house in Resembool. At least as a good place to start," he grinned. "After all, it's out of the city, plenty of room for kids, and that's a town that could always use another engineer around and a good nurse."

The stunned look on both their faces was priceless. "I never even thought of that," Aldon laughed after a moment. "Really though; you'd just let us move in?"

"Sure why not?" Ed shrugged, smirking. "It gives us even more reason to come and visit doesn't it? The place has been paid off for decades, and we've kept it up as you well know. Unless you don't like the idea…"

"No no, it's a great idea!" Aldon countered waving one hand to make it clear he wasn't rejecting the offer! "Takes a load off my mind actually," he grinned. "That is, if you agree?" He looked over at Cassandra, who still looked surprised at how fast things were moving.

"You've told me about the house before," Cassandra nodded then smiled tentatively. "I think it sounds nice."

"And it's not like you have to make a decision now," Winry pointed out gently. "It's an offer. You're not obligated to accept it if you decide there is somewhere else you would rather go when the times comes."

"Right," Aldon nodded and that seemed to put Cassandra a little more at ease. She seemed, Ed noticed, to be a little afraid of being away from Aldon at the moment, as if she was dealing with an environment that she knew shouldn't be hostile, but wasn't entirely convinced just yet.

"Hey, Cassie, would you help me with dinner?" Winry asked, standing up. She seemed to have noticed the same thing. Getting them apart for a little while would be good for them both!

Cassandra looked a little surprised, but she smiled. "Sure." Aldon helped her up and the two men watched the girls vanish into the kitchen.

"Let's talk," Ed suggested. Aldon nodded and they headed out onto the back porch. "So," Ed jumped right into the conversation as he closed the door behind them. "How are you really holding up?"

Aldon smiled weakly. "Pretty beat, if you want to know the truth," he admitted, leaning on the railing. "Getting everything packed up and ready to go on top of working through the last couple of weeks was a lot to manage, and while she's actually been pretty light on mood swings and stuff, Cassie's not sleeping great. I don't think she can really get comfortable anymore. She shifts a lot, and she didn't get much sleep at all on the train."

"Most people don't," Ed nodded, but he understood. "Your Mom had the same problem every time. Don't worry," he grinned. "We replaced your old bed with something more appropriate."

"How so?" Aldon asked, his face flushing just a little.

"More comfortable and built to fit two people," Ed smirked. "Sleep becomes a precious commodity when you can't get it regularly."

"I noticed," Aldon smiled a little. "Thanks again for all this, Dad. Not just the room, but the encouragement too. I spent most of this afternoon making polite conversation and feeling like all Cassie's folks could think of was the fact that I was the guy who stole and impregnated their daughter."

"You didn't exactly steal her," Ed chuckled. He couldn't really counter the second assertion. "I really am proud of you, though, for seeing things through and doing it right, even if you got the order a little out of whack," he teased.

"I know, Dad," Aldon smiled. "You said so before, and I think that's finally starting to sink in. I was so sure you were going to be mad at me."

"I _was_ mad," Ed shrugged, joining him at the rail. "But I'd have been a lot more upset to find out you'd done this to a girl you had no intentions of marrying, or if you'd run out on them."

"Yeah," Aldon nodded. "That's part of why I was scared. I know how you feel about that kind of thing, and I can't imagine what it would have been like to grow up without having you around. I don't want my kids to have to live like that, ever."

"Planning on having more than one then?" Ed smirked up at him. "Or are you just worried there's already more than one in the works?" Okay, it was cruel to tease his son too mercilessly, but it was the only payment Ed would exact for this!

Aldon panicked momentarily, than seemed to realize Ed was doing just that. "Eventually," he nodded. "But I think we should be focused on surviving this one first!"

Ed laughed and smacked Aldon on the shoulder. "It's nice to know that you've still got _some_ shred of common sense in your head."

"Thanks for the endorsement, Dad," Aldon said. "You said you were scared when Mom had Sara right?" he asked after a moment.

"Terrified," Ed chuckled, watching a bird land on the back fence. "Excited too, once I got past the worst of that. Of course, we were apart for four months there and I felt guilty more than anything else, and I worried a lot. She was this far along when I left for the front," he nodded in the general direction of the kitchen, indicating Cassandra. "When she showed up at Briggs I almost had a heart attack, but she refused to go home and worked in the auto-mail shop until Sara came two weeks late."

"Mom's crazy," was Aldon's pronouncement on that.

"Completely," Ed agreed, smiling, though those chaotic memories gave him fond feelings now. He must be losing his mind. "But she did it for me, because I promised her I would be there and she didn't want me to feel bad for missing it."

"Would you have?" Aldon asked.

"Forever," Ed nodded curtly. "She was right, and it was a gift that I will always cherish; being there to see _my child_ come into the world, my first moments of fatherhood. I felt the same way when you were born and Ethan too. There's nothing like it. But before then, I don't think I really understood what being a father really meant. All I really knew was a long litany of what was _wrong_ with all the ones I'd ever been exposed to; all colored by the fact that I learned to hate my Dad for running off and leaving us. At least until I met Maes Hughes."

"Aunt Elicia's dad," Aldon commented. "Aunt Gracia's husband; I've seen pictures."

"Right," Ed nodded. "That was the first time I'd ever seen a real, whole, happy family, and I wasn't mature enough then to really appreciate him, much as I liked the guy." He sighed. So many regrets; the fact that there were a lot of things he would have loved to talk to Hughes about when he had gotten older was a big one. "He did for Al and I more than almost anyone else and, I know now that he treated us like family."

"But, you ran into your father again later right?" Aldon asked, apparently a little confused. There were years of stories that Ed was sure from time to time were difficult to keep straight.

Ed was also wondering a little how he'd gotten on to the subject, but it seemed relevant to the conversation, so he trusted his mind to get to the point_ eventually._ "I did, and I spent some time living with him on the other side of the Gate. I learned to understand his reasons, and who he was as a person. My father wasn't a bad guy really. He certainly didn't do _much_ worse than I did, or tried to do. I don't hate him anymore, but I still don't agree with what he did. He tried to make up for all that time lost as best he could but we both knew it wasn't really enough." He remembered Hohenheim giving his life to try and send Edward back to Amestris, to Alphonse. He'd thought the man was crazy at the time; still did, but if Hohenheim would likely have died anyway, at least he made that sacrifice for a reason he considered worth it. "He died trying to send me home. Hughes died in the line of duty. For me, I figured at that point the two best things a father could do for his children were_ be there _and _not die_ before they were grown."

"Well you've managed that against amazing odds," Aldon sounded both amused and grateful. "What changed between then and Sara?"

"I found out just how much of life happens after eighteen," Ed replied with a dry laugh. "Even now, there are questions that I sometimes don't have answers to, that I know that a father – or at least, a good one, like Hughes – could have answered for me. They're questions I would, in all honesty, have been more comfortable asking him I think, than Hohenheim. But I had to figure out a lot of things for myself or Al and I did together; about girls, about life and dealing with people; in Dad's case…about alchemy."

"You're rambling, Dad," Aldon chuckled.

"Well it's a complicated subject," Ed huffed. "All I'm saying is, the first time I saw your sister's face, I understood. It's not just about being there, or providing food and shelter, or advice, or protection. It's about a lot more than the physical. Being a father, like being a mother really, is about providing stability, discipline, understanding, opportunity, and more importantly, letting them know how much you love them." It wasn't just enough to love them, you had to _show_ it. "It's a big job, sometimes an overwhelming, daunting one. But it's probably the most important and rewarding one you or I will ever do."

"I just hope we can do half as well as you and Mom," Aldon admitted quietly. "Without the dramatic repeated life-threatening situations," he added.

Hearing that – well the first part – warmed Ed's heart and he found himself getting embarrassingly choked up. Hearing his own child call him a good parent was definitely one of those rewards. "Don't worry, Aldon. I think you and Cassandra will be great parents."

* * *

Winry started the water to boiling while she tasked Cassandra with chopping vegetables and preparing herbs. She didn't try and force conversation, but she really wanted to get to know the other woman better.

"Mrs. Elric," Cassandra finally broke in as she was plucking the leaves off of fresh herbs. "I wanted to thank you again, in person, for doing all this; letting us stay here and well….for taking this so well."

Winry smiled. "You're welcome. What else would we do though? You're family. I'll admit I was upset at first," she said as she worked on seasoning meat, "But really that was more because it would have been nice to have _some _idea of what was going on. And please, just call me Winry. There's no need to be formal."

The look on Cassandra's face was once more one of startled relief. Was this really so different from what the poor girl had expected? "All right, Winry. I wish my parents felt the same," Cassandra replied softly. "They say they've _accepted it_. I know they love me, and they don't even really have any objections to Aldon. But they're kind of old fashioned and things were so awkward earlier. It was like, oh I don't know… like they were actually ashamed of me."

Winry's eyes widened in sympathy. "Some people aren't good at dealing with change," she replied patiently. "Especially not when something happens that falls outside the world order as they prefer to see it and the rules they choose to live by. It's especially hard when it involves someone they love. Give them a little more time and I expect they'll come around."

"I hope so," Cassandra smiled wistfully. "They've never been disappointed in me before. It's difficult to face that. Ever since my older brother died though, in the Xing war, I've been the only child they have. I got almost anything I wanted really – as far as they could afford it – and their love and attention and time. It's hard not to feel like I've let them down somehow."

"It's your life," Winry said sensibly. "You have to live it the way you think best, even if that means tripping up sometimes, or dealing with the unplanned. It's a parent's job to make sure their children have the knowledge to make those decisions and get through the tough times. Then, we have to let go and hope that they fly more than they fall and they know they can always come home."

Cassandra giggled. "So you raise homing pigeons."

Winry laughed. "Yep, that about covers it." A joke was good! "So, how are you doing?" she asked, feeling that it was time to shift topics a little bit.

"Awkward," Cassandra smiled. She finished the herbs and started peeling carrots. "Tired too, though I've been lucky. I haven't had to deal with much nausea, just some very strange cravings."

"What kinds?" Winry asked, curious. Every woman's experience was so different.

"Given the lack of them in the winter at Briggs….fresh fruits and vegetables," Cassandra put the peelings in the wastebasket as she worked.

"Well there's no shortage of those available in Central," Winry smiled. The meat done, she dumped it into the stew pot. "Enough people will pay for them that they still ship up here from further South."

"Then it's already more than worth coming back," Cassandra chuckled softly. "I was a little reluctant at first. Despite the ruggedness, Briggs wasn't a bad place to live, but coming home isn't a bad choice either. I even called the hospital and they're happy to have me back to work there again, like I did when I was in school, only with a real salary," she added the last with a wink. Winry was glad to see her loosening up a little. "Of course, I think Aldon would rather I stayed home considering, but I know I'd go stir crazy. Besides, it's not like a hospital is going to overwork me. They'll probably have me at a desk doing paperwork for most of it, and it will only be part time."

"That's great that they want you back," Winry smiled. While it wasn't going to cost Aldon and Cassandra anything really to live with Edward and Winry, or cost them much in the way of house in Resembool if they moved there, that didn't mean they wouldn't need to bolster what they had. She was glad they'd be saving up. Raising a family_ cost_! "Is Aldon really against it though?"

"Not _against _really," Cassandra sighed as she chopped. "But he gets overly concerned anytime I catch cold, or get tired, or just about anything lately. It was worse after that little blizzard incident." Winry knew which one she meant. "But while I know moving someplace warmer was best, for me and for all of us as a family, I don't think he realizes that I'm not going to break, despite how often I tell him so."

"Now that you're here, he'll probably relax a little," Winry said as she washed her knife and then took up her portion of the vegetables, starting with onions. "Aldon's always been sensitive to other people's problems and difficulties, and he gets very invested in the people he loves. With you, well, forgive me, but he's shown a marked drop in his common sense when it comes to you ever since you started dating." She said it with amusement more than anything else, but she hoped Cassandra wasn't offended.

"That actually explains a lot," Cassandra laughed, then stopped abruptly.

"Baby moving?" Winry asked, watching the younger woman's expression.

"I think so," Cassandra nodded, one hand stroking her belly. "Just flutters really. It drives Aldon nuts that he can't feel them yet," she added with a quiet giggle.

"That will come soon enough," Winry nodded. "And then you'll probably wish he couldn't when they start _communing_. Ed used to sing to the kids before they were born, and after when they were little too."

"General – err – Edward sings?" Cassandra caught herself, Winry noted, and she was glad that Cassandra didn't have a problem with calling them by their first names.

"Only in private," Winry smiled, "And even then usually when he's not really thinking about it. He's not trained or anything, but he has a very nice voice." She had caught him so many times – though most she hadn't made her presence known – when he would put the kids to bed, or if one of them wasn't feeling well, or he thought she was asleep. The tunes he hummed, or sang if he knew the words, Winry most often recognized as ones from her own childhood; songs that Trisha Elric had probably used to sing her own sons off to sleep. Winry remembered her mother singing some of them, and then Granny for a little while when Winry was still small, and had missed her parents so terribly when they died. That Edward did the same was just one of the many little things she loved about him.

"Aldon does that too," Cassandra smiled, "Usually at night. Now I know where he gets it."

"As much as he and I have in common in interests, he is a lot like Ed," Winry concurred. "He's loyal and loving and sometimes a little too hard on himself. But I expect you already know all that," she laughed, realizing how that might sound.

"He always wants to get it right," Cassandra agreed without offense, but apparent amusement. "Not just in his designs or his work, but in everything else. Always attentive and caring and thoughtful; he talks things out honestly. I don't mind the over-protective moments really, knowing what he's told me of his own childhood." Winry could guess which stories Cassandra knew. There was no missing Edward's military record, and Winry's own near-death experience had come when Sara and Aldon were within the same age range that Winry and the boys had lost their own parents. Those kinds of things deeply affected anyone, but especially when they were young.

"So how would you say he's doing so far?" Winry asked casually.

Cassandra looked over at her directly, pausing in her chopping just that long, and grinned, her green eyes dancing with amusement. "I'd say he's doing an awful lot of things just right!"

* * *

Dinner was pleasant, a lot of fun really once Cassandra began to relax. She had met Aldon's family before, of course, but it had been very different when they were just dating, and she hadn't really had much of a chance to talk to them much. She had just been glad to find that they were the warm, caring people that Aldon had assured her of. Ethan came home right before dinner and was enthusiastic about having them both there. He even refrained from any particularly embarrassing questions that Cassie would have expected younger siblings to indulge in given the circumstances.

The food was wonderful, the conversation engaging, and over all it was a pleasant and upbeat evening. Still, Cassie was glad when she and Aldon were able to retreat to '_their_' room for the night.

"It really doesn't look much like it used to," Aldon admitted with a chuckle. Cassie had seen it a couple of times, so she knew he was right. With the boxes of wires and other parts that hadn't been down in the garage moved out, the room painted, and a larger bed, it didn't look much like a teenage boy's room anymore. It was too clean for one thing, and too well color coordinated for another; pale greens and golds that Cassie found soothing.

"I like it," Cassie replied as she opened the suitcase that had all of her clothing that currently fit, and pulled out a long green nightgown. "And I really do like your family, Aldon. I was worried at first that they were putting on a good face, but they don't do that do they? They're just right up front with how they feel."

"I told you," Aldon chuckled, already changed into his shorts. He came up behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders. "They're not the kind to stay mad about stuff after it's said and done. Well, mostly," he amended, "But not this kind of thing obviously. They're really glad to have us here."

"Your Mom is so supportive," Cassie smiled as she unbuttoned her blouse and stepped away so she _could _put on her nightgown! "I just wish my folks were this enthusiastic."

"Just wait till the first time they look at their grandkid's face," Aldon replied as she changed. "They'll melt and you know it." He didn't sound as confident as he looked when Cassie turned to face him, but she let that pass. He was trying to keep her spirits up and she appreciated it.

"I just don't want to feel estranged from them for that long," Cassie admitted as they curled up in bed together. Resting in Aldon's arms always had this uncanny ability to make her problems feel lighter and farther away. The early part of the day had worn her out, and she was more than ready for a _good_ night's sleep.

"It probably won't be that long," Aldon spoke quietly into her ear as he held her. He sounded as tired as she felt after the train into town, lunch with her parents, and then the evening, pleasant as the last part had been! "Give them a little time."

"Funny," Cassie murmured as she felt herself drifting off. "That's the same advice your mother gave me."

**January 17****th****, 1950**

"And…it's done!" Sara grinned, feeling very satisfied as she leaned back in her chair, looking at the last finished stack of paperwork in front of her. Two months of file reorganization and tracking completed.

"Finally," Maes smirked. "I hope the Colonel's happy."

"Kane should be thrilled," Sara chuckled. "That has to be practically record time for something this big. At least it's finished as long as people keep up with their reports better from here on out."

"I'm not volunteering for the task force that gets onto them," Maes shook his head emphatically.

"Me neither," Sara agreed. It felt good to have accomplished something that arduous. "You want to go do something tonight and celebrate?" she offered, and felt a little relieved when Maes perked up. He'd been _well behaved_ lately certainly, but not particularly social. She was beginning to think he didn't trust himself in public yet. Forget beginning to; she was sure of it. "I was going out with some friends tonight. You could come along."

Maes' enthusiasm dampened considerably. "Which friends?"

"Family for the most part actually," Sara admitted, chuckling. "Aldon and Cassandra for two; they just got into town a couple of days ago, so we thought we'd go out. Franz might be coming along too."

"Nah," Maes shrugged casually, "Maybe another time."

That was what he had said the last three times Sara had tried to get him to come out with her and a couple of friends. It was always groups that wouldn't really have a problem with him being there, but he always begged off. "You're starting to sound like a broken record, Mustang."

"Hey, I just don't feel like going okay?" Maes snapped, eyes flashing. Sara watched as he caught himself and let out a deep breath. "Sorry. I didn't mean to yell."

"You've got to go out sometime, Maes," Sara sighed, not making a big deal out of his behavior. For the most part, he'd showed amazing restraint lately.

"And face the humiliation?" Maes asked with a snort. "Not tonight anyway. I promised Mom I'd stop by."

"Oh, all right." At least that was a concrete reason, and Sara could tell Maes wasn't lying. "But you're running out of _maybes,_ Maes. To fix an image, you have to do more than lie low, you have to give people something they can see that proves the changes."

"Thanks for the lecture." Maes stood up, stretched and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "If we're done, permission to leave ten minutes early?" Even after two months, he still asked her permission for things around the office even if no one else was around. Sara suspected it was just because he was having to get back into the habit of doing it and didn't want to slip up. Kane had made it clear to Sara at least that if _she_ griped about Maes so much as once, he was in serious trouble. Which also kept her from complaining about any minor annoyances; not that she was the type to really.

"Given that as soon as I hand this final report to Kane I'm out of here too?" Sara smiled. "Permission granted." She just hoped that, sometime soon, he was ready to accept the permission he had from his family and his few remaining friends to come along and be part of things again, and realize that it was okay.

**February 7****th****, 1950 **

Another evening, another day of work gone; Maes Mustang headed back towards the NCO quarters on foot and alone, despite another one of Sara's offers to hang out.

Maes knew he was pushing it, always turning down Sara's attempts to get him back into things in a positive light. Given how badly he wanted to spend private time with her that wasn't work related he felt _stupid_ turning her down time after time, but he had his reasons. The main one being that she never offered to go anywhere with him _alone_ anymore. Not out anyway, where anyone could mistake their interaction for anything other than friendship. No cozy dinners for two, no movies; her point about being friends but having to regain her trust was made very clearly indeed.

The other reasons had more to do with him than her. Maes still found it difficult after two months _not_ to give off the wrong messages around the women he had been sleeping with – or of the right type to be interested if he hadn't – just because of practice and his reputation. He wasn't sure he trusted himself in public; not with the women, and not with the booze. Sara had been right; not sleeping with girls was frustrating but fairly easy to keep from doing. Convincing his body he really didn't need to drink like that anymore was another problem entirely. Most days, he was okay, but there were bad ones; especially when people started in on him.

Being at the party at the Elric's house had been difficult enough. This year they had, to cut down on chaos, simply thrown one party as a 'happy birthday Edward, Elicia, and Sara' 'happy anniversary Winry and Ed' and 'welcome home/congrats Aldon and Cassie' celebration all rolled into one big party and called it good. Basically, it had just been one big party with food and friends. All of them were people that Maes should have been able to consider 'friendly' and, indeed, no one had made a single snide or sarcastic comment to him all day or given him a dirty look, though there were some pitying ones he could have done with out, and he was sure people made comments about him at times after he passed, but his parents' friends – he now understood – were relieved more than anything else now that he wasn't being a complete idiot. They still cared, he was surprised to find out, and it unnerved him as much as it should have been a relief. He had let down a _lot_ of people that he had forgotten cared about his parents and about him. Sara had been happy to chat with him. Aldon and Ethan were too. Most of the older generation wasn't overly conversational, but it seemed more that they didn't want him to feel pressure to talk with a lot of men who were his superiors – and he _was _still on probation – and he understood that.

It was much worse at work. It was amazing how people would talk when they thought he couldn't hear them, or the rumors that spread around, the gossip he heard. Maes knew what they were calling him all over Headquarters. He heard the jokes. _Twilight's lapdog _they called him, with comments about how fast she'd been able to _call him to heel _when she'd gotten back to Central. The comments about how he had obviously been_ fixed_ because the dog no longer strayed really grated on his nerves. Those comments, ironically, made him want a drink as badly as they made him determined to prove the doubters wrong.

The invitations from Sara that really bugged him though were the ones where Franz Heimler was involved. The other man wasn't seeing anyone now, and despite all the time he and Sara spent together – and Maes knew_ they_ did things together – Sara insisted they weren't dating, but that they _had_ talked things out and Maes could just keep his nose out of it. As much as Maes knew that he might have a chance at Sara if he managed to get himself cleaned back up right, he was pretty sure that his chances were slimming drastically if she and Franz were still close friends after Sara telling him about her feelings. What he wouldn't have given to know how that conversation _actually_ went!

At least tonight should be relatively low stress, he was actually having dinner with his folks – thank goodness for legitimate excuses – and now that the initial pain and embarrassment of apologies was over with, he had found in his parents the solace and advice and occasional kicks to the head that he had been missing terribly! Tonight, there were definitely a couple of things he wanted to talk to his father about.

The meal itself was a low-key affair. Dinner with his folks always was these days, and Maes was glad for that. His mother seemed content to discuss anything from cooking to government regulations to firearms but didn't bring up Maes' recent issues unless he did so himself. His record at work was spotless since the fight with Sara, and he hadn't done anything embarrassing in public since either. No wonder people called him her lapdog, but at least it was better than where he'd been going. His mother knew that, and he knew that she wasn't pushing because she acknowledged that he was doing well enough on his own.

After dinner, Maes sat down in the living room with Roy, putting up with one of his mother's dogs sitting beside him, begging for a head scratch. Maes obliged the dog, who wagged her tail contentedly. He knew Roy would ask how things were going. His father was much more inclined to prod at sore spots, to make people react. It was his way.

As he had expected, Roy sipped his cup of coffee, then looked up at him. "So, how's it going?" The question sounded so casual but Maes knew it was loaded.

"Rough," Maes replied honestly. He had never really talked to his father about private things when he was a kid because he didn't want to trouble him. Their few personal talks had been memories that Maes kept close because of their rarity and how much he had enjoyed them. It was only now, when he was already grown, that he had discovered that his father _wanted_ to be bothered. It wasn't an added burden to him that his son needed his advice and attention. So now they were really starting to communicate. "Well, work's okay really, if I ignore the gossip."

"You shouldn't let the words of others get to you," Roy commented calmly. "Not the general gabble you hear around Central anyway," he amended. "Besides," he smirked, "Even lap dogs bite."

"Not funny," Maes grumbled. "At least Sara doesn't treat me like one. Though, with the project over, we don't talk a whole lot." It had been a couple of weeks.

"You're avoiding her." It wasn't a question.

"Not intentionally," Maes shook his head. "I really want to spend more time with her, but she won't offer to do anything that isn't out in public and with other people."

"And this is a problem?" Roy asked, sounding like he didn't think so.

"Yes!" Maes exclaimed. "It's always guys from work, or her brother. Aldon's all right of course but it's like she doesn't really trust me."

"It sounds to me like she doesn't think you trust yourself," Roy countered. "And neither do you."

Sometimes, Maes thought his father was far too perceptive. "With her? Sure, I know I'm not going to do anything too stupid. It's the situation that makes me nervous."

"Too many _other_ girls?" his father smirked.

Maes felt his face flush, but he was right on the mark. "How did you make it all those years in love with Mom but unable to act on it?" He asked the question he had been wondering. No military would have condoned Roy Mustang getting directly romantically involved with one of his own subordinates after all! "Especially with your reputation? There _were_ other girls right?"

"Remember what I said about it a while back?" Roy's mouth quirked; it wasn't quite a smile. Maes shook his head. He remembered that being during their fight before he'd totally lost it, but not the details. He'd really like to forget he had ever done that to his parents. "I didn't sleep with anyone after I fell for Riza, or date anyone _seriously_' Why do you think the list of girls is so long?" He actually grinned then, a rather cocky one that Maes imagined his father had flashed often in his younger days. "I admit I used to flaunt the flirting a little; it drove your mother nuts. I think that's part of why I did it. She was my closest confidant, and the one I trusted with my back. But I never betrayed her trust in me either. It was the least I could do."

They had sacrificed their own happiness for a higher cause for years, because that was what they believed to be necessary; to be the right thing. Maes felt like a selfish kid in comparison. He had certainly been acting like one. Hell, he'd been more mature when he was _twelve_. "And what do you do when the world makes you want to go get roaring drunk to get away from it?" Or to stop from feeling so completely stupid.

"Your mother would be the better person to ask for alternatives," Roy admitted then, not smiling this time. "Old soldiers aren't really creative at that sort of thing."

"Mom was a soldier," Maes pointed out, a little surprised at his father's response.

"She always was better than the rest of us," Roy sighed, then shrugged. "The best answer I've got is deal with whatever makes you feel that way, even if you're afraid to face it."

"There's never an easy way out, is there?" Maes asked.

"No," Roy shook his head, "Not that's actually worth taking. The messes we make for ourselves are always the most painful to fix. At least yours still can be."

That much, at least, was true. No one had died because of Maes' stupidity. The world wasn't crumbling around them. It was himself and his own life that were a mess. "So I have to just stand up and face things head on and do the things I'm afraid of and hope I don't fail miserably."

"Sounds about right," Roy nodded, and Maes got the feeling his father had done that more times than he probably cared to recount, if in different situations. "Maybe we sheltered you too much," he admitted softly. "It's easy to confront challenges when you're confident. It's much more difficult to go on when you know you may be facing disaster, or when you finally find something you truly fear."

"I'm not afraid of Sara Elric," Maes countered, frowning. He was getting a little lost in all this.

"You should be, if you're smart," Roy chuckled. "No, Maes. This is normal. You're not afraid of the people you'll run into. You're afraid of_ yourself_; of losing control, of failing, and doing it in front of people who matter to you."

"Maybe when I come over I shouldn't talk," Maes suggested, smiling just slightly. "You seem to know everything before I open my mouth."

"I'm not omniscient," Roy grinned, "Just ask Edward. I used to piss him off all the time by pulling that act. It's just a matter of knowing more, and in this case that comes from experience. The first steps are the hard ones but it'll get easier, if you give _yourself_ a break."

"I'll try," Maes replied. He knew his father was right, but that didn't make the whole process any easier. "I just don't want to hurt anyone else anymore."

**February 12****th****, 1950 **

He was _going _to do it. It wasn't a date, he kept telling himself that. Maybe if Maes repeated it long enough he would believe it. He wasn't asking Sara out on a date. He just wanted to hang out like they used to. She said they were still friends, that she cared deeply about him, but Maes couldn't help but doubt. Still, if Sara said it she meant it. Perhaps she was just waiting for him to reciprocate, to prove his own sincerity. Two years ago, Maes would never have hesitated to call her up, or follow her home, or offer to hang out and work on alchemy together. It was time to try being _himself._

Maes waited until they got off for the day and caught Sara coming out of Kane's office. "Hey," he smiled, feeling nervous. Hell, he hadn't been nervous about asking a girl out since high school. "You want to do something?"

Sara looked more than a little startled. "What did you have in mind?" she asked, her expression neutral.

Maes shrugged, trying to keep it casual and not look as tense as he felt. "Just sodas or something," he suggested. There was a soda shop between HQ and her apartment. They'd been in there dozens of times over the years. Okay, he knew he was pushing it with no one else coming along, but the old proprietor knew them both and likely wouldn't assume anything.

Sara actually smiled; then her face fell just a little. "I'd like to, Maes, but can we schedule for another evening? I'm catching a ride over to my folks' in a few minutes with Dad. Kane finally found a mission that's good for Ethan tagging along with me but we're leaving in the morning and there's packing and, well, you know how it is." She sounded honestly apologetic and a rain check, Maes supposed, was better than nothing.

"Right," he smiled, ignoring the feeling of his heart dropping into his stomach. "Sure, we can go when you get back. How long will you be gone this time?" He wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"Only a few days," Sara replied. "Maybe a week. It's a couple of days each way by train. There's been a little problem of some medical supplies going missing between Central and one of the towns to the West with a military outpost. All we'll probably be doing is sitting around keeping an eye out for petty thieves." No, it didn't sound too fascinating, but something good for Ethan to get his feet wet as an alchemist in the real world. At the worst, they might have to face down the thief in question.

"Well good luck then," Maes chuckled, "To Ethan too. It's about time he started doing something with all that alchemy stuffed in his head."

"I'll tell him you said that," Sara smiled. "Well, I've got to go. See you in a few days, Mustang!" And she turned and headed down the hall towards Fullmetal's office.

Maes watched her go, then turned and decided to head back to his quarters. He was glad no one else had caught their little exchange. That might have been embarrassing. She hadn't blown him off, not really, and she'd said they would actually do it when she got back. It was better than nothing!

**February 15****th****, 1950 **

The first couple of days on the train were, as Sara had expected, routinely dull. She and Ethan were stationed near the back, in the actual car containing their cargo: the medical supplies going to the military outpost. So far two shipments had arrived with portions missing that had been recorded as boarded when they _knew_ they had been put on the train. Sara and Ethan would either deliver the supplies without incident or hopefully catch the perpetrator and stop the thefts from happening at all.

Ethan was predictably bored after the first day, though to his credit he tried valiantly not to show it. Still, he was an _almost _teenage boy and he was prone to being fidgety. They spent the time playing cards and talking, and it was nice to get to learn more about her youngest brother as he was now. Sara found they got along well together! Ethan was a lot more like Dad than Aldon was and so, unsurprisingly, more like Sara in some ways. She found she liked having him along, and wondered if this was part of why her father and uncle always talked so fondly about their travels together. Ethan joked, and snacked, and he looked a lot like Dad in his own coat – something fast becoming a family trademark – but it was a dark green, more representational of the healing and natural elements of his own alchemy; what Ethan wanted to do. It was kind of fun.

At least it was until they were just a few hours out from their stop. The area they were going through was hilly, and there were winding streams and rivers through-out the region. They had made a stop a couple of hours before to pick up passengers from a small town. Sara was just getting ready to deal another hand when the train suddenly jolted and the car rolled slowly to a stop.

"Are we supposed to be stopping?" Ethan asked her, frowning.

Sara shook her head. "Not for another couple of hours." There was nothing out here and that smelled of trouble. Up until now the trains had never been detained. Of course, the shipments had been smaller too. They had some _valuable_ medical supplies, so perhaps their thieves were getting bolder, or desperate. "Stay here," she set down the cards. "Don't let anybody into this car but me." She stood and headed for the door to the first passenger car. "I'm going to take a look around."

"All right," Ethan replied, though he sounded a little nervous.

Sara glanced back at him and flashed a confidence-inducing smile. The same one her father often employed. She had found it worked well. "Don't worry. All you have to do is keep the cargo doors closed. Surely you're that much of an alchemist, Little Brother."

Ethan's face steeled then and he nodded. "Of course I can!"

"I thought so." Sara stepped out and crossed the little connector between the cars. As the door opened and she stepped into the next car, she stepped into dead silence. She paused then, and looked at the man standing at the other end of the car, gun in hand. He looked mildly panicked, and that was never good.

"Nobody move," he barked! Apparently he had just arrived himself. "We're just here for some cargo in the back. Stay seated and no one has to get hurt!" His voice squeaked slightly, his eyes were wide. He couldn't be more than Sara's age either. Apparently, they hadn't meant to get a passenger car too, if Sara had to guess. His eyes lit on Sara though as the door closed behind her. "You sit down!" He gestured with the gun.

Sara sighed. This was not going to be pretty. "Put down the gun, Sir," she replied calmly, looking down the aisle and not at any of the passengers, her eyes meeting his without hesitation. She rubbed her hands together very subtly then put her hands up in a placating gesture, glad she'd kept her gloves on. "You're not going to need it."

Ethan watched the door close behind his sister with a feeling of sudden trepidation. He had been eager to come on this mission, to get out of Central and do something _on his own_. Even Doctor Stevenson had been proud to hear that he was protecting much needed medical supplies. Ethan knew what they were hauling and, as an alchemist, what each was made of and how much it cost to produce those pharmaceuticals.

Ethan knew that any trained alchemist should be able to do something this simple. His father and uncle had done much more difficult things as boys his age. His father had been a State Alchemist at_ twelve_. Surely Ethan, who had been training as long, and intensely under his father's tutelage, could handle something this simple. Sara was right; keep the doors closed and no one could get in.

He discovered pretty much immediately that it was _not _that simple. Almost as soon as Sara was out of sight he heard people going at the wooden doors. The locks broke and the door began to open. Ethan froze temporarily, then shook himself and dropped to the ground, chalk in hand and a transmutation circle drawn in less than three seconds. He slammed his hands to it and the wood around the doors, and of the doors themselves, extended and melded until the walls of the car were solid wood; no doors left at all to open. Outside he heard cursing then footsteps. Probably running for the door between the cars, he thought. Damn! If that happened, the cargo would be stolen, and he'd be cut off from the rest of the train. There were people in there! He had no idea what was going on in the rest of the cars. Still, if that was his only option… Suddenly, Ethan had an idea. He snagged the metal that had been part of the doors that was now lying, in relatively unnecessary bars, on the floor of the train. It had seemed best just not to let it interfere with the wood. He transmuted them into a larger stick, and then made the other door into the car vanish as well. As he did so, he opened a small hole on top of the car. Then he climbed up on a couple of crates and out the hole.

From the top of the car, he could see the problem. The rest of the train, save the last passenger car and the three luggage cars at the back, was _gone_. Or rather, he could see them in the distance, having stopped further on. He thought he saw people running back their direction, but they wouldn't be coming fast he suspected as he watched them scrambling like tiny ants down the distant hill. They had stopped, but with the passenger car extending out into a bridge that crossed a rocky gorge!

Ethan closed the hole behind him. Now there were _no_ openings to the car he had just exited, and no way was anyone stealing anything! He edged over toward the end and looked down as two large men realized that their other point of entry was gone too. Ethan took a deep breath and swung, slamming one of them over the head with the metal rod. The man toppled immediately, but the other guy dodged and grabbed at Ethan's improvised weapon. Unprepared, Ethan felt himself yanked just off balance before he let go and toppled over the edge! He landed on the man, but he wasn't big enough to knock him down.

"You little punk," the burly dark-haired thief growled, grabbing at him and tossing Ethan to the ground "You are so dead!"

Ethan didn't have time to freeze. He just reacted, rolling to his feet and dodging around the car as he heard a gunshot and felt the heat of it near his ear. _Crap! _He didn't have time to draw another transmutation circle now like he'd had with all the others, and he didn't own a pair of gloves like the ones Sara had. His Dad had insisted that Ethan couldn't learn alchemy properly if he was relying on a useful trick. That wasn't always good in a fight. Now, Ethan was grateful. _So, no alchemy._

In the split second it took for the man to come around shooting, Ethan had given himself over to fighting and dropped to the ground. His instincts were right; the man was expecting him to be running, and fired high as Ethan's leg shot out, caught the man in the ankles and tripped him, the man going down as Ethan spun out of the way, twisted, and leaped onto his back, grabbing him in a neck-hold that would break it if the man moved wrong…and prayed he wouldn't have to make good on that threat! He might be able to choke him out or buy himself time to sketch something one-handed. Maybe…

The man was obviously an experienced fighter. He knew exactly what Ethan had done and went limp. "I give kid," he grunted. "You gonna get off me? You won."

As if Ethan was _that_ naïve. "If you hadn't called me kid, I might have considered it," he replied, gripping down and cutting off the man's airflow. He saw a rock on the ground and reached out with his other hand. "Have a nice nap." He slammed it into the man's temple with all the force he could muster. The man twitched, gasped a couple of times, and eventually passed out completely after a couple of minutes. Ethan didn't move for another one just to be safe. Then, when he was sure the man was really out, he got up and used the metal bar, transmuting it around the man's hands in a pair of keyless cuffs, then did the same to the other man he had knocked out. He had enough metal left over to do their ankles as well. No way was he letting them get away!

Panting, adrenaline pumping, Ethan sagged against the train car. That was close. His heart was pounding so hard he could feel it in his _ears._ He looked around, desperately hoping there was no one else. He made himself stand up and look all around the train cars. There were no other men that he could find, and a truck parked near the back ready for stolen goods, still running. Just in case, Ethan turned it off and pocketed the keys. No one was getting away_ that _way.

Then he heard a shot and Ethan ran back towards the passenger car. Oh hell. Sara!

* * *

"Oh really?" the man asked, trying to look tough as he countered Sara's comment about not needing his gun. "Sit down or you'll find out how serious I am!"

Sara kept moving forward, slowly, palms up. The people around her seemed to be hunkering down and leaning away from her. That was fine. It kept them out of the line of fire. In truth, Sara was afraid but she pushed it down, burying it deeply to deal with later. "What you want is in the back," she said calmly. "Not here. These people aren't armed. They aren't stopping you. Step back outside and leave them alone."

"Who are you lady?" he asked sharply, holding the gun up, trained on her now. "You're crazy. Stop moving or I'll shoot!"

"You really don't want to do that," Sara replied. If he shot anyway, well, she just hoped this _worked._

"Last chance," he squeaked, his eyes going wide.

"It's all right," Sara continued moving slowly forward, voice calm and soothing. "You're not going to get in bigger trouble if you just leave now."

"I_ can't,_" he replied, and Sara wasn't sure if he meant to or not, but his hands shook and the gun went off.

She was glad she was ready. The air between them suddenly seemed to thicken, gel, and solidify – only temporarily, given the sheer amount of energy needed to pull that kind of a transmutation off, turning the water in the air into ice – stopping the bullet. Then it was gone, the bullet dropped to the ground, and Sara dove forward the last few feet in a low roll, coming in right in front of the surprised man, tackling him, and carrying them both bodily out the front of the car.

Sara grunted as she slammed down on top of the man she was fighting, only then realizing that they were lying on railroad tracks, in the air, nearly fifty feet above a rock-strewn gorge. Well _hell_. She flinched as the man rolled – she hadn't had time to pin him – and slammed her down against the wooden slats. The spaces between them weren't big enough to shove her down through, but all that empty space below her was not a pleasant sensation! Sara punched him in the nose and they rolled again in a frantic wrestling match made more difficult by the lack of footing in some places, the lack of room to grasp and grapple and brace without fear of sending them _both_ toppling into the ravine. At one point the guy tried to shoot again, but it went off in a random direction, pinging off the rocks somewhere behind her and Sara slammed his hand into the metal rail till he let go, and the gun fell, and fell. Sara ripped her eyes away, not wanting to _see_ any more evidence of how far down the drop went!  
He was panicked, but he wasn't letting up. The man had obviously realized his mistake in uncoupling the cars too late, and hadn't been ready to deal with_ people_. He was fighting for his life and they kept _almost_ going off the edge. Damn it. Sara wanted to subdue him, capture him and take him in for questioning. But at this rate, those chances weren't looking good! Fear made him strong and reckless.

Sara gasped as she came down on the metal rail sideways, and she could see the precipice below. With a shove, she tossed him off again…. and then slammed face first across the tracks, both arms catching the metal as one leg fell through the slats. She heard the yelp of panic as the man tumbled off the tracks and fell to the rocks below. Sara watched him fall, unable to look away, though she winced and her eyes closed just before he landed. The sickening crunch told her well enough how that had turned out.

"Sara!"

Taking deep, gulping breaths, Sara looked up and saw Ethan standing in the train doorway, panting and as tired looking as she felt; his eyes wide. Sara forced a grin to her face. "Nothing I couldn't handle," she commented. "The cargo?"

"Safe." Ethan visibly shook himself and then came down onto the tracks. "Two others, but they're unconscious and bound. They won't be any more trouble." He squatted down. "Need a hand?"

Sara pushed herself up. "One would be helpful," she agreed as she tried to get her leg out from the tracks. It wasn't wrenched or anything, but it was an uncomfortable position. With Ethan to brace against, she got to her feet, and was glad to get back up onto the train car itself.

Inside, the people hadn't moved, as if they were afraid something _else_ might happen. They looked a little nervous when Sara and Ethan returned. Sara gave them all a friendly smile and pulled out her watch, displaying it briefly. "It's all right everyone. The thieves are all dealt with and we'll be seeing about getting the train reconnected as soon as possible. I apologize for the delay in your travel plans. If anyone needs assistance, please let me know."

There was a general moment of disbelief and then relief seemed to flood the cabin. A few people even started clapping, though that subsided quickly. "I'm going to go see about your _friends_ lying out back," Sara looked at Ethan then. "Can you take care of things in here?"

"Sure," Ethan replied. He looked a little shell-shocked, but this would be good for him.

"All right then," Sara nodded and headed towards the back of the car. At least they could say the mission was a success. She blinked away a single tear and tried not to think about the man she had just sent careening to a needless death.

**February 21****st****, 1950 **

It was a tougher few days than Maes had expected it would be. Until she left, he hadn't realized how much he had come to rely on Sara's presence. Just knowing she would be there every day, holding him accountable and being surprisingly patient but firm had been enough to keep him under control. It made him feel safe, like there was a net to keep him from falling, from backsliding.

Without Sara there he was edgy, irritable, and unnerved. He worked, and that was all right, but he didn't go anywhere afterwards other than back to his quarters, where he kept himself busy most evenings by reading or listening to the radio, maybe doing alchemy research.

Finally, he just couldn't take it anymore. He was hiding out like some coward with a _crutch_. Surely Maes could handle going out somewhere without completely screwing up! It wasn't like he _wanted_ to cause trouble or find someone to shack up with for the night. If he didn't want to it wouldn't happen, and that was that.

So, feeling a sense of renewed determination, Maes decided he was just going to go out by himself, have a drink, listen to the music somewhere, and then come home when he was ready to sleep or got bored.

A simple enough plan; at least until he got to the club. Almost at once, Maes had the funny feeling in his stomach that he had made a mistake and he wavered, considering just going home.

"Hey!" he heard someone call and wave to him. Looking over, he recognized Leon, a guy he knew from school, and one he'd spent a lot more time hanging around with in the last few months. The guy was good for a laugh and he liked to party. A bunch of his usual _crew_ was there as well. "Been a while," Leon laughed as he motioned Maes over. "We were beginning to think you had a leash growing out your ass or something. What'd you do, slip out?"

Maes sighed but came over. "I do what I want," he shrugged. "I've had a lot of stuff to get done at work, that's all."

"Not the way we hear it," Varro smirked. "Sit down and have a drink, Mustang, if you still remember how."

That was why he was here after all. Maes sat down and ordered a beer. That was all he really wanted. The band sounded pretty good tonight. A drink, a little conversation, then home to bed before work. No big deal. At least they weren't being hostile! That was a nice change.

All in all, the evening progressed pretty smoothly, Maes thought, and he began to relax and enjoy himself. Sara had been right; so had his father. He was the only one holding him back from getting past his fears of screwing up.

They chatted, played a few games of poker, drank, and had a pretty good time until it started getting late. Maes was just thinking he should go when a _very_ unexpected surprise landed, literally, on his lap!

"Maes!" Vanessa smiled at him, dark eyes bright behind those dark brown curls that usually fell a little into her eyes. As always, her clothes showed quite a bit of smooth, creamy skin. "I was beginning to feel like you'd abandoned me," she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Maes stiffened – in a couple of ways – and tried not to panic at the response! Vanessa had been a _regular_ until he'd stopped coming around, and a favorite date. She knew exactly how he liked to be touched. That…was a definite problem at the moment with her chest pressed against him, the scent of her perfume reminding him of her bedroom. The scent clung to his clothes afterwards on the way home and until he showered. "Hey, Ness," he swallowed, trying to smile. He didn't want to insult her but… "Abandoned? No, of _course_ not. I've had a lot of important stuff to do. You know how it is."

"Oh of course, lover," Vanessa laughed, one hand catching in his hair and running through it, her fingers felt good against his scalp. "Though I'm looking for a little _Major_ trouble. I don't suppose you could help me out?" She twitched her hips on his lap, just slightly.

_Ooooh….damn it!_ She had to know just how effectively she was tormenting him; sitting on his lap, in public, when he could do nothing to relieve the mounting tension, the familiar desire. He'd never tried to hold back before in this situation. His body screamed that _it_ was all for taking what she so graciously offered, time and time again. He'd done it before, why not now?

Because _now_ was a bad idea, his head argued. That seemed a weak argument though as she leaned in and kissed him. There were a couple of hoots from the guys at the table, but then, this wasn't _new_ for them.

Maes couldn't remember making a conscious decision, but he knew he hadn't said no. He found himself following Vanessa back to her near-by third-story apartment, as he had done before several times. They stumbled through the door in a flurry of kisses and hands on hot skin as he tried to undo her dress. His fingers fumbled though; why was that? He hadn't had a lot to drink, just a beer…or two, maybe three. What did it matter anyway? He grabbed her tightly and they fell down on the bed before he had a chance to undress.

Vanessa laughed. "You're out of practice, my Mustang," she teased, nipping his neck playfully as her hands went for his pants. "Looks like you need a little re-training by an old friend…."

Re-training by an old friend… the words cut through the fog of lust and alcohol somehow, and Maes hesitated. He wasn't sure why, but the words affected him, and with them came images of Sara, and a reminder of just how hard she'd been working to help him out. And here he was…

Maes sat bolt upright, much to Vanessa's surprise as she looked up at him, confused, and then slightly annoyed. Maes shook his head, trying to clear it. "Sorry," he said as he stood up and redid his fly. "I've got to go." With that he turned and fled, not replying to the confused _'what the hell?'_ he heard behind him.

Maes left the building and headed back towards the barracks at a brisk walk, resisting the urge to break into a run. What had he been thinking? What had he almost _done_? Was he crazy, or just really that much of a pathetic loser that all it took was a willing woman dropping into his lap and he would give in so easily? He berated himself all the way back to his room, and inside, locking the door behind him. He'd walked fast and he was a little winded, but the walk had done little to calm him down. Maes felt like he might burst at any second; his mounted desires far from relieved, his body and mind at war, and a feeling of panic creeping over him as he failed to get control over either his body or his emotions!

He felt tears starting to slide down his cheeks. Just_ great._ So he was crying now too like some dumb kid. His breaths were short, kind of gasping. He'd never really panicked before. He didn't like it at all. He needed to calm down, to think rationally, but for some reason he couldn't remember how.

Well damn it! This was taking too long. All he had to do was get some sleep and he'd be fine, right? He could manage that. He'd already screwed up royally tonight anyways, so what more could finishing the job really hurt? Maes went to his cabinet and pulled out a bottle of whisky he'd had stashed in there – untouched now for over two months. He didn't bother finding a glass; it wasn't like he needed to be classy for company. Maes just sat down on his bed and upended the bottle, determined to finish the evening off again as fast as he could and deal with the consequences tomorrow. Tomorrow, he'd try again.

* * *

Edward met Sara and Ethan at the train station when they arrived on the nine o'clock train. He had gotten the report from the outpost, of course, as soon as the shipment had arrived, albeit it two hours later than scheduled. Given all that had happened though, that was minimal delay, and well worth it. He was proud. Truth be told, he was a little worried about his kids anyway. Armed men shooting at his family would _always_ be one of those things that made him nervous!

"Dad!" Sara hugged him as she got down off the train, her one bag over her shoulder. Ed hugged her back. "Thanks for meeting us."

"It's a little late for you to be walking," Ed teased as Ethan came down off the train behind his sister, yawning till Ed was sure he heard the kid's jaw pop. "And I don't think you wanted to be lugging him." Ethan's bag was in his hand but he really didn't look entirely awake.  
"You're right about that," Sara laughed, letting go. "Don't mind him. He passed out a couple of hours ago. I'm sure he'll be hyper again in a few minutes."

"Sounds like you had an eventful trip," Ed commented as they headed for the car.

"That's one way of putting it," Ethan commented, still looking bleary but apparently more alert than he appeared.

"Battling thieves on railroad tracks counts as eventful," Ed chuckled, putting an arm around his son's shoulders. "I got to read the report they sent back by wire. You're both all right though, aren't you?" All he'd noticed was that Sara was limping a little in the right leg.

"We're fine," Sara assured him. "I just slipped a little in a dust-up with one of them. It's just sore," she added, obviously having noticed _him_ noticing the limp. "Ethan was quite the hero. He took on and captured two of them by himself while protecting the supplies. He was a really good partner."

"It's always nice when you can count on having someone back you up," Ed nodded. He'd have been in so much trouble without Alphonse in so many situations. "You seem a little subdued for returning heroes though," he teased as they got in the car. Sara got in next to him and Ethan crawled into the back. "Did something happen?" He started the car and headed for Sara's apartment first.

He saw Ethan flinch in the back seat in the mirror, and Sara sighed. "One of the thieves was killed. He and I were wrestling, and we were _on_ the trestle above the gorge and he, well, when I tossed him the last time he went off the edge."

Ed winced. "Was that the one with the gun in the passenger car?"

Sara nodded. "He shot at me, but I blocked it with alchemy and attacked him. We fell out of the front of the car onto the tracks and he tried to shoot me again, and we started fighting. He was pretty panicked. I don't think he was expecting to have hostages."

"Great, incompetent thieves," Ed sighed. "So it was self-defense."

"Yeah," Sara replied, though she looked pretty down about it. "In the end, I think I knew he was going to go off, because it was going to be me him or me the way things were going. I just…I don't know. I know I had to do it, but I still feel like maybe I should have been able to come up with another solution. A man died because of me. I killed him." The finality of the last pronouncement sounded like she was saying it more for herself than anything else.

The final words hung silently in the air, and Ed left it there for a minute to see if either of them would continue. "It's hard," he said finally into the quiet. "To kill someone I mean. Or well, not the doing it; Sometimes _doing _it is far too easy. That's why people do. They can pick up a gun or an alchemy book and learn how to use weapons. As long as they don't think, just _do_, they fool themselves into thinking it's simple; perhaps justifiable. It's when they have to _think_ about it that it gets harder. I think you're right. The way he panicked, he probably wasn't expecting to deal with more than a person or two, and a car full of innocents wasn't part of the plan. He had been trained to shoot, not how to kill."

"And what are _we_ trained for then?" Ethan asked; his voice a little more tremulous than usual.

Ed swallowed. "To survive," he replied. "To fight well enough that you only have to kill as a last resort, when it comes to the point where there is no other choice." He glanced at Sara. "There is no real likelihood of talking a panicked assailant out of fighting you, or at least trying to get away. In your situation, I would have done the same thing."

That pronouncement seemed to be what she needed to hear. Ed saw a little of the tension leave Sara's shoulders. She had never actively killed before this, he knew that. It wasn't something to take lightly, and she obviously didn't. "That's good to know," she replied softly.

"You say it's easy, Dad," Ethan commented tentatively, "To do it, but not if you have to think about it. What do you mean?"

This was not the pleasant welcome home conversation he would have preferred to enjoy, but it was obviously a conversation that needed to happen. "I mean that the act itself is pretty simple. It's our morals, our views of killing people that makes it difficult. Or it should. A trained soldier may be asked to kill in the line of duty even if he does not understand why he's doing it. That's a choice he or she has to make when they join the military in the first place. It's the choice anyone makes when faced with an assailant. That's the hard part, making the_ choice_ to kill someone, possibly in cold blood. Do it for the military and it's duty. Kill someone who attacked you first and its self-defense. Kill someone because you _can _and its murder. But if no one sees you, than who's to say what really happened? It's not always so clear cut. When you think about it, it's not so easy."

"That's kind of confusing," Ethan sighed. "But definitely not easy."

"No life should be taken needlessly," Ed continued as they pulled up to Rockbell Auto-mail and the apartment. "The choice must be made with a calm head. Afterwards though, anyone has to deal with what they've done, emotionally. Most of us have to suppress our innate hatred and fear of death in order to kill someone else. Losing that perspective is what makes people kill more than they have to; whether it's because they stop empathizing or, on the opposite end, because they're afraid."

"Was it ever easy for you?" Ethan asked, very quietly.

"No, Ethan," Ed replied quietly. "The first time, I knew going in that I was setting out to kill a man – homunculus or no, he was a thinking being. After, I almost couldn't believe it. I didn't want to believe it; that I had really done that to someone. I bawled like a baby, and I grieved."

Sara looked a little surprised at the description, though Ed knew she knew the story of his fight with Greed, if in a more technically way. "And after?" she asked.

"It's gotten easier to do my duty," Ed answered honestly. "But it never gets easier dealing with the guilt afterwards and wondering if I could have saved more lives if I'd been faster, smarter, something. It's not something I'm proud of. I'll only worry though when I_ stop_ feeling bad about it." He'd killed homunculi; he'd killed people. As long as he regretted the necessity, as long as he empathized for what the people who loved those people he killed had lost; all the things that made him _human_… that regret told him he was still sane.

"It's kind of weird," Ethan admitted after a moment. No one had moved to get out of the car. "I never really realized how immediate someone dying really was, or how hard it was to watch but… it's also strange – no offense Sis – that I don't feel any different about Sara after she did it. Is that wrong?"

"No," Ed turned around and smiled in understanding, "Not at all. Just because someone has killed, or had to kill, doesn't automatically make them a bad person; given that the reasons behind it were sound, and it was necessary. It doesn't make someone a serial killer. I've met my share of people who killed for pleasure, or for a cause, or because they liked it. But most of us who have had to make that tough call aren't so obvious."

"How can you tell then?" Ethan asked, and Ed wondered just how shaken his son really was by the experience. Certainly more than Sara, it seemed, and she had been the one to have to do it.

"Look in their eyes sometime," Ed replied. "When they don't know anyone's watching, and they're at rest; they're thinking. You can often tell the eyes of someone who has seen death; and of someone who has _caused_ death. Me, Roy, Riza, Breda, Havoc, Feury, Armstrong… a lot of our State Alchemists or any of the soldiers who've seen combat." He ticked off names they knew to make the point. "They all understand and you can see it. Where as your Uncle Al, and your Mom, they've_ seen_ death but neither has ever_ directly_ been the cause of someone's death." Indirectly perhaps, but Ed had done his best to make sure his brother had never had to kill anyone face to face, to_ kill _instead of just defending. It hadn't been necessary to protect him really for years now, but Ed still cared a lot about Al and he knew how sensitive his brother was to other people's pain. "There's sadness there, a _knowing_, an understanding about the flow of the world that some people just don't have." Ed sighed then, and swallowed, looking back again. "Any more questions?"

Ethan shook his head, looking a little dazed. Well, it was a_ lot_ to take in all at once. It had taken Ed years to fully understand everything he had just told the boy.

"Thanks, Dad," Sara smiled tiredly at him. "I feel a lot better about it now."

"That was the idea," Ed chuckled. "I had hoped it would never be something you had to deal with, but as soon as you showed up in the East, and then decided to become a State Alchemist, I knew it was likely to happen eventually. You did well, Sara. You need help with your bag?"

"No," Sara got out, shaking her head as she did so. "I can handle it. Good night, Dad. Good night, Ethan! Sleep well." She closed the door and went around back.

Ed glanced back one more time, to find Ethan had already dozed off in the back seat. Poor kid! He waited until Sara was inside before he pulled away and headed home. It was nights like this he wondered if maybe a life as a baker or a science teacher or something might have led to fewer difficult conversations and lessons like this one.

But then, that life would probably have been so dull it bored him to tears so, really, Ed would just be content knowing his children were resilient, caring people, and be there for them to make the falls a little less painful. What they all needed right now was a good night's sleep!

**February 22****nd****, 1950 **

Sara's report to Colonel Kane the next morning was quickly completed. She'd written it up on the way home, but most of what needed to be sent back to Central had been done from the military outpost when they arrived. It recounted the incident, getting the train put back together and alchemically fixing the coupling to reattach the cars and returning the luggage car to its previous form as best as was possible, and then finishing the job when they delivered the medicine and had the materials to do so properly. Sara had fixed the car connections, but she'd let (or rather _made_) Ethan put it back since it had been his work in the first place and it was good practice. Unsurprisingly, it had gone without a hitch. She had also made sure to discuss his skill in dealing with the passengers; calming the frantic, assisting anyone who had been jostled when the train stopped a little unexpectedly. She knew her father would read the report, and that a copy would probably end up in Doctor Stevenson's hands at some point regarding Ethan's skills in general and his work with people especially. Fortunately, no one had been injured much aside from the thieves.

"Sounds like your little brother's definitely one of the family," Kane chuckled as he looked the report over again right there for any pertinent details he might not have known. "You two make a good team."

Sara nodded. "He turned out to be a really good partner on this. I take it you won't mind if he follows along on other assignments?"

"Not if you don't object," Kane shook his head. "Obviously Fullmetal knew was he was talking about when he said Ethan was ready for a little real-world experience. How's he handling it?"

Sara knew what he meant without further elaboration. "He was a little shaken. I mean, sparring is one thing. This was a real attack, and he's never been shot at before or seen someone die. But he didn't hesitate to do what needed doing, no one innocent got hurt, and he kept his head and acted like a professional the whole time we were in public view. Outside of that," she shrugged. "That kind of stuff is tough on anyone the first time, no matter if they're twelve years old or thirty."

"But he's okay then?"

"Yeah. He didn't cry or anything, though it definitely has him _thinking_ about things like killing and the motivations and ethics and such," Sara said. "But given what he wants to do, it's something he needs to understand." Any doctor dealing that directly with auto-mail engineering and the patients involved would hear a lot of stories that weren't pleasant and many that dealt with violence like what he had seen. If the man Sara had wrestled with had lived, there would have still been a good chance of permanent injury or paralysis. At that point, someone might have opted for auto-mail if it would be able to bypass that paralysis or injury.

Kane nodded. "Indeed. Well, everything looks in order. There are a couple of requests on your desk I'd like you to look over, though you're not required to take any of them; just giving you first dibs. They're all jobs that need doing in town, so just let me know by lunch."

"Thank you, Sir," Sara smiled. "I'll take a look and get back to you."

The jobs on her desk weren't big assignments, but they wouldn't be too much hassle either. There was some new construction planned on the outskirts of town to the West, but the area hadn't been surveyed for stability yet and they wanted an alchemist to determine the make-up of the soil and rock in that area to make sure it would properly hold the buildings they were putting up. Another job involved inspecting a couple of new factories to make sure there was nothing harmful going into the air when they started up later that week. The third was a request for alchemically treating some metal pipes being used to run water in town that was replacing some old piping; the treatment of course being altering the metal so that the pipes were less prone to rusting or putting impurities into the drinking supply.

Kane was right, they really were all pretty easy jobs, and very industrially related for the most part. Helpful to the people though, and he knew Sara didn't mind _menial _labor alchemy when it was for a good purpose. She looked at the timing and decided that the pipe work and the factory inspection were both worth it. Someone else could go sniff around rocks! That wasn't really her specialty anyway.

Sara dropped a memo to that effect on Kane's desk when he wasn't in his office when she went back. As she was settling back down to catch up on paperwork, it occurred to her that she hadn't seen Maes around this morning, at all! She didn't want to just generally ask any of the other Alchemists in the office; she knew it would look bad, even if there was a reason for his absence, which there certainly had to be; good, bad, or otherwise!

She waited until the only other person in the room was Torv Skald. Torv was laid back enough after all, and she wanted to pass on the rock job to him! He'd probably enjoy it. He was the Earthshaker Alchemist after all!

"Sure," Torv chuckled when he looked at it. "That's an easy one. I'll let Kane know I'll take it."

"Thanks, Torv," Sara nodded. "By the way, have you seen Firebrand this morning?"

Torv shook his head. "Not a hair. Sorry."

"That's all right." Sara kept it casual, but she was worried. It was already nearly ten. She decided it was time to go hunting him down. If Maes hadn't been in the office at all than she was definitely concerned. Though at least she wasn't hearing horrible rumors or anything.

Sara took a break and headed over to the NCO quarters. Almost no one was there this time of day so she wasn't really worried about being seen. She knocked at Maes' door and waited. After a minute she tried again then, when she got no response, glanced both ways and then used alchemy on the lock and opened the door. She fixed it when she closed the door behind her.

The NCO quarters were basically two room apartments; one large living area and a bathroom. Some of the officers had roommates and some didn't. Sprawled out on his bed, definitely unconscious, was Maes Mustang, still mostly dressed from the night before. Or at least, that was Sara's guess. There was something very wrong here, and it only took her another few seconds, and steps closer to the bed, to figure out the problem. There was a bottle on the floor, empty. What the hell? "Damn it, Mustang!" she snarled.

Maes stirred slightly on the bed, but it was a sign of just how bad things were that he didn't actually wake up.

"Get up, you idiot!" Sara growled louder and crossed to the bed in a couple of long strides. She simply tipped up the mattress with a heft and dumped him over onto the floor. It didn't take much lifting from the other side of the bed.

Thumping unceremoniously onto the floor was enough to startle Maes out of sleep. He yelped, then groaned and sat up, one hand on his head as he looked around blearily. His eyes lit on Sara, and he glowered; then seemed to realize it was her. "What the hell, Elric?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Sara snorted, picking up the bottle. "I'm gone less than a week and you're back at square one? What happened, Maes?" It was worry that had her angry. Why would he do this? She really hadn't thought he was that stupid, or incapable!

Maes' face flushed, but Sara couldn't tell if he was angry, embarrassed, or both. "It was better than the alternative," he replied vaguely.

"Which would be what, exactly?" Sara asked, tossing the bottle in the trash can.

"I took your advice last night," Maes snorted, not even trying to get off the floor and still rubbing his head from conking it on the wood. "I decided I'd_ go out_, you know? Just a beer, a little music, maybe find someone to talk to after being in all week."

"Well you missed the mark on the first part," Sara quipped, then regretted it. She sounded so bitchy! But then, the frustration was mounting; he hadn't really answered the question.

"Managed the second two," Maes countered, still frowning.

Sara sighed. "You're avoiding my question, Maes," she forced herself to keep her voice more reasonable. She already knew that going off on him wasn't going to really get anywhere. Sara came around to the side of the bed where he sat sprawled on the floor and perched on the edge of the mattress. "What was so bad that it made you decide that downing an entire _bottle_ of whisky in an evening was a _better_ alternative?"

"I ran into a girl I know." Maes said it so flatly that Sara didn't need to ask what he meant. Obviously it was one of _those _girls, and clearly, things hadn't gone well.

"And did you argue or…something else?" Not that she really had the right to know, but given she was the one still pretty much _in charge _of redeeming her friend, Sara felt like she needed to! The second seemed, sadly, more likely.

"Neither," Maes blushed. "But only barely." He shook his head, winced a little, and finally started to get to his feet, where he wobbled for a couple of moments. "Hell."

"What now?" Sara asked as she watched him, wondering how badly hung over he really was.

Maes sighed. "I think I'm still drunk," he replied.

"Well with all that in you, are you really surprised?" Sara asked, shaking her head. She stood and offered him something to brace against as he sat down again on the edge of the bed. "So," she asked softly after a minute. "You didn't then."

"Do you have any idea how embarrassing talking about this stuff is with anyone, let alone _you_?" Maes snapped then looked immediately contrite.

"Probably as much as it is for me," Sara replied. "Likely more-so."

Maes glared at her then shrugged. "I didn't," he admitted then. "But it was hard not to. Any other woman would have been easier to say no to but…hell, I couldn't even _thin_' and that was before she really did anything!" He flung his hands in the air in exasperation, and Sara let him vent. At least then maybe she'd find out what happened. "She's just that good at getting to me and… then we were at her place and then…in the middle of things she said something that reminded me of you."

"And that did what exactly?"

"Stopped things cold."

"Nice to know I have that effect on you," Sara replied sarcastically.

"Not like that!" Maes objected. "Okay, well yeah maybe. But I felt guilty. I didn't want _her_ really. I was just frustrated and damn it I _enjoy _it! Too much maybe," he shoved one hand irritably through his hair. "But I couldn't, not with the guilt, not knowing what you've gone through for me lately."

"Don't make this about me, Maes," Sara frowned. That wasn't the point of doing all of this after all.

"I'm doing this _for_ you, damn it!" Maes countered, temper flaring. "I couldn't believe how easily I fell into her arms and, well…hell, you know! I'm as easy to play as a pipe with one hole. I left her flat and came home and…" He stopped talking then but Sara could fill in the rest. He'd been played. Obviously the girl knew just how to turn him on, and after two and a half months he'd been ripe for it!

Sara shook her head. "Maes, do you understand now why I kept inviting you out with friends? I didn't want you to have to deal with that stuff alone. It's a lot easier when the people you're out with are supporting you, not encouraging your failure."

Maes' anger seemed to deflate before her eyes and he looked away, ashamed. "I thought I could handle it," he mumbled. "I don't need a babysitter."

"Really, you _do_," Sara replied, and she couldn't help but chuckle. He looked a lot like a petulant child. "That's what my Dad says your Mom always used to insist was her duty; babysitting your Dad."

"I'd heard that," Maes replied simply.

"Look," Sara said, feeling a little more sympathetic. "I'm not trying to embarrass you, or coddle you; the opposite of both in fact. You_ should_ get out, but that doesn't mean tossing yourself into a hostile area right? If you wanted to teach someone how to shoot, you'd take them to the range first, not toss them over the border and call some Drachman's mother a mountain-bear."

"Depends on who I was teaching," Maes smirked, but at least it was better than sulking!

"And you can't do this for _me_," Sara continued. That was an idea she needed disillusioned _now._ "Cause I refuse to take the guilt and the pain and the responsibility of promises I can't make or feelings that I can't force. You shouldn't be doing it for your folks either. This is something you have to be doing for _you,_ Maes. Cause if it's not for you, than you're left with a foundation even less stable than where you started from." She wasn't going to let him fall apart again if he based his happiness and mental well being on someone else or on emotions and a relationship he wanted but might never get. "This isn't something you're giving someone else; it's something that needs to fix whatever's troubling _you_ from the inside first."

"Did you really break into my room this morning just to give me a lecture," Maes groused?

"Are you listening to me?" Sara asked.

"Yes," Maes sighed. "You're kind of hard to ignore."

"Then why do I have to explain this stuff repeatedly?" Sara smiled even as she shook her head in annoyance. "I came over here because I was worried about you when you didn't report for duty this morning."

"Is Kane pissed?" Maes asked, looking immediately concerned.

"I'm not sure he's realized it yet," Sara replied honestly. She really hoped not, though she knew that he would eventually have that fact brought to his attention. "Either way, you know he's not going to be happy about this and I can't stand up for you forever."

"I'll talk to him," Maes looked resigned, as if this signified the end of his career. He was already looking at losing rank, or worse; getting discharged completely. "This is my mess. Thanks for waking me. I'd probably have slept through most of the day otherwise."

"You don't have any other bottles of that stuff lurking around I should confiscate do you?" Sara asked him, giving him a no-nonsense look.

Maes shook his head. "No. That was the last of what I had in here."

Sara stood to go. "Good. See you this afternoon then. Though don't forget," she smirked as she turned. "You still owe me a soda."

She could hear the surprise in Maes' voice that she had remembered. "Yeah, okay."

* * *

Sara was glad to get home that evening. The rest of the day had been uneventful on her end, though she heard that Maes had been gone into Kane's office as soon as he arrived and had been in there for nearly a half an hour. Maes hadn't come looking for her afterwards, though Sara suspected she would hear all about it later. For now, she just wanted to _relax._

And she was looking forward to tonight's festivities. Franz was coming over to listen to a radio program they were both interested in hearing – a fun mystery drama, nothing special or earth shattering, it was the finale of the storyline – and he had promised to bring in dinner so she didn't have to cook either!

Sara got home and changed out of uniform. She let her hair down and brushed it out, then pulled it back out of the way. She hadn't been home long before she heard a knock at the door. "Come in, Franz," she called out, pulling out glasses and ice for drinks.

"Dinner is served," Franz chuckled as he came in, bags in both hands. His glasses had slid half way down his nose. "I hope you like sandwiches. I hit that deli down the street. How's chicken salad?"

"One of my favorites," Sara grinned. He always seemed to remember what she liked. "Would you like iced tea, water, or wine?" she asked, checking the refrigerator for beverages.

"Iced tea please," Franz replied as he set the bags on the table and she could hear him pulling out food. "You okay, Belle?" he asked, and she heard his feet on the kitchen tile.

"Yeah, I'm okay," Sara replied on impulse. "Why?"

"You usually don't offer wine with sandwiches," Franz replied. He sounded partially amused but also concerned. Of course, he was _right._

Sara sighed. "It was a rough day," she admitted, pouring them both iced tea for the moment.

"Would you rather do this some other time?" Franz offered.

"No!" Sara spun around, almost spilling both full glasses. "I mean, no I don't want to put this off. I've been looking forward to the end of Darker than Dusk forever, and dinner and just having a chance to talk." Other than planning this before she'd left on her mission with Ethan, she hadn't talked to Franz except earlier today briefly to confirm plans. "I just have a lot on my mind."

"Well, the show's not on for an hour," Franz smiled at her and took both glasses out of her hands. "Why don't we empty your mind a little first? I'd like to hear about your mission from you directly. I've heard almost nothing really and you can tell me about your day and get it out."

He was too good to be true, really. Yet Sara knew that was just Franz's way. "I'd like that," she replied and they both sat down to chicken salad sandwiches at her table. She was happy to recount her mission with Ethan along. It was a pretty good story in the retelling. It still made her a little uneasy that the man she'd fought with had died, but she didn't feel guilt-ridden over it now.

"Sounds like quite an adventure," Franz nodded when she was finished. "The State's going to be sorry not to get Ethan I'll bet."

"He'll be more useful doing what he wants to do," Sara replied. "To the State as well as everyone else when he gets his research finished. Applying healing alchemy in auto-mail engineering and surgery, as well as in general, would be a huge benefit."

"I didn't say it wouldn't," Franz chuckled.

"Sorry," Sara flushed. She was being defensive, and there wasn't really a reason for it!

"So what did happen today?" Franz asked.

Sara sighed heavily. "Maes," she replied. "I found him passed out drunk in his room earlier today when he didn't show up for work." If it weren't Franz she would never have said a word about it, but she knew he wouldn't go reporting anything she told him in confidence, not even about Maes' screw-ups. "Apparently he tried going out on his own last night and failed spectacularly. Well, not as bad as thinks," she amended immediately. "But he didn't handle it well afterwards apparently." She recounted their conversation _very _briefly. She didn't want to break Maes' confidence, but she needed to talk to someone with better perspective.

Franz scowled, but nodded. "At least he tried," he replied after a thoughtful minute. "That's a step in the right direction even though it didn't turn out as well as he wanted."

"I guess so," Sara nodded, seeing his point. "It was just frustrating. He was making so much progress before I left!"

"And the hard part will be not relying on you to be his strength," Franz replied. "It's always easier to lean on someone else, even if that safety net is imagined."

"So why is it always me?" Sara sighed in exasperation.

Franz laughed. "Why not you?" he countered. "After all, with Maes you're the only one putting real effort into actively helping him out; at least the way he probably sees things."

Another good point; Sara smirked. "I guess you're right, and I know he's trying. At least he's the only guy I know having major emotional trauma right now."

"I take it Mars isn't pestering you then," Franz commented coyly.

Sara shook her head. "Actually, his most recent letter was pretty upbeat." The two she had received upon her return to Central a couple of months ago had been better than she had been worried about. The first had been a 'things are tough but I'm trying' kind of letter as he neared the end of his University studies. The second letter, send more recently had been an excited one about getting a job in South City doing architectural work! It had included the address he was moving to so she could actually send a reply to the right place. Of course, as soon as Sara had read them both she had written him back. She had gotten a response just a couple of weeks ago actually. "He's really enjoying his new job. He's currently designing a new live theatre house down there. They want it to resemble the old Cretan ones, so he's having a lot of fun with the design."

"I can imagine," Franz grinned and finished his sandwich. He put trash in the first bag so it wouldn't clutter up the room.

"What's in the other bag?" Sara asked, realizing that it was still sitting unopened on the table.

"Dessert of course," Franz grinned. "You didn't think I'd forget did you?" He reached in and pulled out a small container which opened to reveal two slices of cheesecake drizzled in chocolate and caramel.

"Are you trying to spoil me?" Sara asked, swallowing saliva. She was _not_ going to drool in front of Franz!

"You're welcome," Franz replied, "And yes. Everyone deserves a little spoiling now and then. Now might be a more appropriate time for the wine," he added, "And forks."

"I'll get both," Sara chuckled as she stood up. "Thank you," she remembered to say as she stepped out for a moment. It was hard sometimes not to say more, not to flirt. They had agreed not to try anything, not for a while at least. She didn't want to push him, and he didn't want to put pressure on her, but he treated her_ far _too well, in her opinion, for a_ friend._ Not even Mars had been this attentive when they _were_ dating! She wondered if Franz was aware of this fact, but for now she wasn't going to say anything.

She got forks and glasses and the bottle of red wine and came back to the table. Dessert was delicious. Then they settled down on the couch and flipped on the radio to see how the mystery ended.

As it turned out, Sara guessed right on who had committed the murder, and Franz wrong. "Good thing you aren't in Investigations," Sara chuckled as she sipped from her glass, feeling a lot more relaxed than she had when she left work! "Or we'd all be in trouble."

"Undoubtedly," Franz shrugged. "Better I handle all the confidential files right?" he chuckled. He was leaned back with one arm along the back of the couch.

"Totally," Sara giggled and sat up, leaning forward to refill her glass. She sat up too fast though and wobbled, tipping sideways into Franz's shoulder and side instead. "Sorry!" she blushed.

"It's all right," Franz chuckled. "But maybe we should lay off the wine. I have to go home eventually."

Sara didn't try and sit up immediately. It was kind of nice right there. "You wouldn't be the first friend to crash out on my couch," she pointed out with a shrug, craning her neck a little so she could look up at him. He looked kind of upside down that way! His suggestion was probably wise though if she was this giddy. "Still, you're probably right," she admitted aloud. "It's just so nice to relax. You're the only friend I can really do this with anymore."

"That's hard to believe," Franz looked down at her.

"It's just different dynamics," Sara shrugged. "I have to watch what I say with most of my friends so the conversation's not the same. We don't talk about _meaningful_ things. I can _talk_ to my family but…"

"But inviting them over and getting tipsy on the couch is not something one does with one's parents," Franz laughed, understanding obviously, "Or siblings really."

"Aldon's got a pretty full plate at the moment," Sara said. "Working for Mom right now, saving up with the baby coming. And he's got Cassie who has the primary claim to his time and attention, which is as it _should_ be," she added the last hastily. "Ethan's way too young for this kind of thing yet." And Maes was out of the question at this point. "It's weird to have so many friends, and so much great family, and still feel lonely. Is that strange?"

"To feel that way? No," Franz shook his head and smiled. "I love my family, but there's not a lot we talk about on my private life, and most guys aren't interested in hearing about another guy's problems unless it's over drinks where they're drunk enough to pretend they care, or as long as they aren't expected to offer functional advice." He shrugged. "I think most people only have one or two people they can _really_ talk to about some things."

"I guess that's why they're called_ best _friends," Sara smiled then yawned, feeling more than a little drowsy. _Or boyfriends, _the thought popped unbidden to her mind.

"They always listen and never take advantage of your weak moments," Franz chuckled.

Her eyes were fluttering closed, so Sara let them. "Exactly," she murmured. This was the single most relaxing position she had been in for weeks, and stress just seemed to flow away…

**February 23****rd****, 1950**

Sara came awake all at once, blinking and momentarily disoriented before realizing she was actually in her own bed, still fully dressed. Dawn was peeking through the windows. She must have fallen asleep last night but… poor Franz! Talk about being a lousy host. Sara got out of bed and went into the living room. There was a blanket folded on the edge of the couch with a note on it. Feeling guilty, Sara picked up the note and read it.

_Gone to pick up breakfast. Don't worry about making anything! ~Franz _

Sara set the note down on the table and noticed that everything from the night before seemed to have been picked up already. The dishes were rinsed and drying on the counter and the trash was cleaned up. As usual, she found herself wondering how Franz could _possibly_ be for real. Oh he wasn't perfect, but seriously, what was there to complain about? Obviously his ex-girlfriends had reasons, but Sara hadn't been privy to those. It made her wonder.

She continued wondering while she took a shower and got dressed for work. Franz returned while she was sitting on the couch tying her boots.

"Morning sunshine," he chuckled as he set down another take-out ready bag and a thermos that, she assumed, contained coffee from the scent. "Sleep well?"

"Sorry I passed out on you last night," Sara replied, embarrassed all over again.

"Literally," Franz's eyes were dancing in amusement. "Don't worry about it, Sara. That's what friends are for right? Here," he pulled out what looked like fruit-filled pastries from a bakery Sara was familiar with. Her father liked to drop by there. "Least I could do for crashing on your couch right? I figured neither of us should go to work without a decent breakfast."

The scent of the freshly-baked pastries mingled with the coffee – cherry pastries she guessed. Sara laughed and went to grab plates. "You're right," she teased back, shoving off her unease. It was silly to worry about things unnecessarily. "And besides, who am I to argue with a gentleman bearing food standing in my living room? I invited you to stay anyway, remember?"

"True. So call it thanks then," Franz smiled. "Are we even?"

Sara turned around and grinned at him. "Since when are we keeping score?" she challenged. "Friends shouldn't have to keep score."

Something in Franz's face softened. "All right then. What do we call it?"

Sara set down silverware on the table and mugs for the coffee. "Breakfast."

**April 21****st****, 1950 **

Edward wasn't sure what had woken him up at first. The house was quiet and Winry slept beside him, breathing evenly. After several seconds the familiar feel of his empty stomach complaining, and the accompanying growl, made him smirk into the darkness. Quietly, so as not to wake Winry, he slipped out of bed and pulled on his bath-robe to ward off the middle-of-the-night chill in the house. It was an old robe, but worn till it was comfortable, a gift from his kids years back in – not surprisingly – deep red.

He headed downstairs to the kitchen and opened the fridge to see what he could find that wouldn't require cooking. He just need a small something to tide him over till morning. It was while he was pouring himself a tall glass of apple juice that he heard a noise behind him and turned. Ed grinned. "I guess I'm not the only one up for a two a.m. snack."

Cassandra looked embarrassed at being caught, but she shrugged. "It seemed a better idea than arguing with the downstairs tenant," her mouth quirked in a wry smile.

Ed understood. Winry's biggest complaint late in the game had always been that none of their kids wanted to _sleep_ when she was lying down! All right, so it was one of Winry's many _biggest complaints_. "Sweet or salty?" he asked.

"Filling," Cassandra countered jokingly.

"I think we have some actual leftovers from dinner in here," Ed chuckled, "Or at least dessert." He rummaged around until he found what remained of the strawberry-and-sugar glazed pound cake he had enjoyed earlier that day. "I think this meets all the criteria," he grinned as he pulled it out and set it on the counter.

"This doesn't break the house rules?" Cassandra asked softly, though he suspected she was teasing.

"Only the one where Winry insists I'm not allowed to raid the refrigerator," Ed shrugged.

"She gets annoyed."

"Why is that?" Cassandra asked.

Ed grinned. "Because I can get away with it and she can't." He pulled out a knife and plates. "At least for now. If I ever slow down any I'm probably screwed," he admitted with a chuckle. He'd worry about that when and _if_ it ever happened! "Though since it's really for you two," he smirked, "I'm off the hook." She had to be able to tell he was full-of-it on that.

Cassandra giggled. "I'm sure she'll see it that way in the morning."

"Small slice or large?" Ed asked, smirking at her sarcasm.

"Medium please."

Ed cut them both pieces while Cassandra poured a glass of milk. It was kind of amusing for Ed to be sneaking a midnight snack with his son's wife, though the feeling of co-conspiracy was actually pleasant. It was a chance to get to know her better, and he and Sara had done the same thing once or twice. If anything, it helped him feel a little more like Cassandra was another one of his own kids, just in a different way.

"Tell me about Resembool. What's it like?" Cassandra asked after a couple of minutes of sitting quietly at the table and eating.

"It's about as rural as you can get," Ed chuckled, visualizing the place in his mind. No matter that they had gone back several times over the years; he always saw it the way it was; the way he _remembered_ it. "Nestled up in the foothills and into the mountains and out onto the plains, really spread out; mostly farm country; wheat and sheep. The main part of town, what little there is, is up by a big mountain lake, though the house is in the foothills. Despite it's growth over the years, it's still a small town where everyone knows everyone else and their business, whether you want them to or not," he smiled. "There's plenty of open space, and no one minds if kids roam freely as long as nothing gets destroyed. It's a great place to grow up."

"It sounds wonderful," Cassandra smiled pensively. "But you left anyway."

"Al and I always had big dreams," Ed shrugged, taking a bite of cake. "But really, we only left home the first time to learn real alchemy, the second, to fix the mistakes we made by misusing the first. There was no _going back_ at that point and it was years before it was clear to me that Resembool was still home, because of who was still there, not just who we had lost."

"I'm sorry," Cassandra sighed. "I didn't mean to bring up painful memories."

"No, it's all right," Ed smiled at her. "I don't mind talking about it. It's the place I grew up in that I usually think of now, and the good times, not all the loss and the painful memories, though those won't ever entirely go away. It's a very…healing place." Of course, he'd spent a lot of time healing physically and emotionally there over the years.

"I'm looking forward to it," Cassandra finished off her slice of cake and set down her fork. "It sounds beautiful."

"Just wait till you see the night sky there," Ed added. "It's all beautiful countryside really, and warm most of the time, though it does get chilly and snow sometimes in the winter."

"I'll have to restock my paints before I go," Cassandra chuckled. "It sounds like I'll have a lot of subjects."

"That would be great." There weren't a lot of artists that Ed knew of, if any really other than local dabblers, who had ever used Resembool as subject matter. "There are a lot of places there worth preserving. Actually," he asked, feeling a little silly. "Do you need a model, or could you paint something based off of a description?"

Cassandra looked surprised at the question, but she shrugged. "If it's a detailed description, I could probably paint it, as long as it's a still life and not a person."

Ed smiled. That was just what he had hoped to hear. "Then, if I may ask – I can even tell you where to sit for the reference point – but there's something I would appreciate it if you could paint it for me, when you get there."

**May 10****th****, 1950**

Someday Sara was going to figure out men. When she did, she was going to figure out a way to make them stop driving her crazy! Or at least teach herself not to get worked up dealing with them, no matter how annoying they were. Well, perhaps that wasn't entirely fair.

Ever since Maes' little near-relapse in March, he had been doing his best to keep to the image of model officer in the making he'd had before he completely screwed things up. Sara did her best to help and this time Maes listened. They had gone out for sodas once like she'd promised him, and all of their _personal_ discussions about his issues happened out of the office. He was still kind of shy of going out in public to the places where he was easily tempted, but there were others he would go that were outside of that. At least now, Sara thought, some of his old natural patterns of behavior were re-establishing themselves and he was actually _thinking_. That was a relief.

What still had Sara confused about the whole thing were her own feelings. Or perhaps not so much confused as frustrated. She knew Maes was still very much focused on having _any _chance with her at all, but the more she spent time with him, helped him out, talked with him, the less sure she was that she had any interest in him romantically. Sure, she loved Maes like a brother, but that really wasn't the same. How to distinguish the difference? Obviously, there was a way Maes was sure what he felt for her was _not_ what he would have felt for a sister, but that wasn't something she really wanted to _ask_ about.

Mars at least, with copious apologies for his behavior in his first letter and in the subsequent ones, seemed to have determined that he should bow out gracefully and be content with their friendship as it was. Sara was good with that.

_Franz _was beginning to drive her a little nuts! Not in a bad way, just in the fact that he was being a gentleman and keeping his distance as they had agreed, while she got Maes back on track and life mellowed a little. But he kept doing things that only cemented her conviction that her feelings for him were more than a crush, and_ growing _rather than diminishing. It made waiting for that _maybe some day_ all the more frustrating.

Sara did her best to put thoughts of men in general out of her mind at work. She didn't think about Franz's assertion – or Maes' or Mars' – that there were a lot of men out there who found her attractive and would love to go out with her. She really didn't _want_ to deal with any more of them.

Work was a calm, hormone-ravaged-male free zone in her mind. At least, it was until that morning when she walked into her office and saw a familiar figure leaning against the filing cabinets chatting with Ragnar and Torv: Cal Fischer! He hadn't been back in town since Sara's arrival home six months ago, and that was the _only_ thing that had saved him from a severe tongue lashing ever since Sara had found out he'd blabbed to _Maes_ of all people about their time together in the northeast.

Cal spotted her first and, apparently oblivious, grinned warmly. "Twilight! Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes."

Sara frowned and stalked over, all of her frustration from the last few months mounting. Irrational as it _might_ be, she still blamed Cal for helping accelerate Maes' downhill spiral. "Whitewater," she said as she grabbed him by his uniform collar, "We need to have a talk." She dragged him across the room and into the supply room, where she shut the door behind them, seeing Torv and Ragnar's startled faces only briefly as the door closed.

"Sara, what's this all abou—"

Sara rounded on him. "You really want to know what this is about, Fischer? Funny how short your memory seems to be. Or don't you remember telling _Maes Mustang_ about Graywall?"

For a moment, Cal actually looked confused and completely lost, then recognition seemed to flicker in his expression and he chuckled. "Is that all this is about? Geez, I'm sorry I mentioned it. I didn't think you hated it _that _much."  
"_Someone_ said he wasn't one to talk," Sara jabbed her finger sharply into his chest, glaring up at him. "And like an idiot I believed you! Why Maes of all people, Calvin? Do you really hate him that much, or are you so stupid that you really don't think about the effect of the things you say on the people you tell them to?"

"Whoa, whoa!" Cal held up his hands defensively and his grin faded into a scowl. "Slow down, Twilight. It was a brief conversation, nothing detailed or involved. Sure I nettled him about it a little; everyone knows he was into you then, and still is obviously given how well you've got him trained," he smirked a little. "Doesn't look like there was any harm done."

"So you're blind as well as stupid," Sara rolled her eyes. "No harm done? You go and rub salt in the guy's wounds, making it sound like some great little romance that just _happened_ for the fun of it, and make me look cheap! Damn it. Maes has been one of my best friends for my entire_ life,_ Fischer! How he feels about me is none of your _damned_ _business_ and what you did to him was cruel, especially knowing how he felt. He was having a tough enough time of it and you had to go and shove him over the frickin' edge!"

Cal's eyes had gone wide as he realized just how infuriated she really was. "Hell, Sara. It's not like I was trying to do anything more than tease him a little! You're not really blaming his whole attitude problem on _me_ are you?"

"Of course not," Sara snorted. "But you didn't have to tell him that, you_ shouldn't _have, and you did it _knowing _you were being mean. You just admitted it! You really are a shallow asshole sometimes, you know that? It's taken me months to get Maes put even remotely back together with any shred of confidence or stability and if you say_ one word _that sets that back to him at any point – or that comes through the gossip chain – I swear I will rip your spleen out and transmute it into pasta! Is that clear?"

"Crystal," Cal scowled but he looked nervous. Sara was glad; she'd never lost it with anyone in the office before. She rarely lost her temper at all; but it felt far too satisfying to throw a bona fide Elric-style temper tantrum at one source of her frustrations. "But damn it, Sara, you're over-reacting."

"I don't think so," Sara snorted, crossing her arms and standing back a little. "You hurt a friend of mine and you embarrassed me. I really thought, after last year, maybe you were capable of being more mature and kind than most people gave you credit for. And really, I still think you might be; but that's no excuse for purposefully shoving _my_ private business down a friend's throat. I don't care if you don't like someone, Whitewater. That kind of behavior doesn't hack it with me or anyone else I know that counts as a _mature_ adult. Stay out of my way, Cal. I don't want to have to look at your face any more than I have to for a while." With that she spun and grabbed the door, yanked it open, and strode out again.

Torv and Ragnar were still watching her, wide-eyed as she passed them. She needed to get out of the office for a while. Maybe a workout would clear her head and get rid of some of her frustration at having to hold back and not haul off and beat on Cal right there in the office! She had that much self control at least. Sara didn't even really care how much Torv and Ragnar heard; they knew her, they knew Cal, and they weren't the type to blab anything that might get _them_ in trouble for repeating it!

"What was that all about, Sara?" Ragnar asked, stunned. Obviously her exact words had been muffled; which was exactly why she had chosen to chew out Cal in that particular room.

"Professional disagreement," she growled, hoping that the reality had been too blocked to give away _too_ much information.

Neither of them tried to stop her as she left the room and headed down the hall. Sara tried to school her expression to something a little less _violent_ as she made her way down towards the gymnasium. She was ticked off enough to go run the obstacle course set up for the infantry, but that would take too long.

"Sara?" She didn't stop until the person in question stepped directly in front of her, and she looked up into Franz's concerned face. He seemed to remember himself then. "Sorry. Is something wrong, Major?"

Major? Right, rank difference. Sara sighed and shook her head. "Dealing with an obnoxious co-worker that's all, Lieutenant." This was not where she wanted to have a conversation on this _particular_ subject! "He said something inappropriate to another colleague of mine awhile back and I took him down a notch for it." It was vague, but she hoped that, given their conversations, Franz might get the message and understand.

He seemed to. He frowned, sighed, and then nodded. "I see. If I may say so, perhaps this wasn't the best venue?"

"Perhaps not," Sara admitted.

Franz looked around then nodded off to the left. Sara followed, wondering what he wanted to say that he couldn't – or at least wouldn't – in the hallway. He was much more discrete than a lot of officers. He led her into one of the break rooms, which was empty for the moment. "I was hoping to catch you this morning _before_ you ran into Cal Fischer," he admitted as soon as the door closed behind them. "For just this reason," he smiled ruefully.

"You knew he was back?" Sara asked.

"Found out this morning when his latest reports were on top of the stack of paperwork that came up from Kane's office," Franz nodded apologetically. "I figured you might like a little warning but it seems I'm too late."

"More than a little," Sara shook her head. With the force of her anger falling quickly by the wayside, she was starting to feel a little bad about her response. "I walked into the office and there he was, and all I could think of was everything I've wanted to say to him for the past six months ever since I found out he told Maes about… us." It was still weird mentioning it in front of Franz, but at least he'd never called her on it or told her she'd made a mistake. "I don't really blame him for the result, but what he did was immature and mean and embarrassing and it caused a lot of trouble."

"Calm down," Franz put his hands on her shoulders. "Take a deep breath and think rationally. I know you can. Yeah, I'm sure Cal probably did it on purpose; he and Maes don't get along. That's not news. Neither respects the other and Maes is no kinder to him on any given day. Still, he's only one guy who's said a lot of crap about and to Maes over the past couple of years. You're upset because what he said involved you _personally_ and you're feeling like your privacy has been violated which, admittedly, it has." He spoke firmly but patiently and Sara found that, even if it was a lecture, she was glad his tone didn't make it sound as much like one. "Maes is the one who chose to react badly to the information he got though. I know you know he's as much to blame for his own mistakes."

Sara found she could do little but nod. Franz wasn't unsympathetic, but he wasn't giving her what her selfish instincts wanted – a hug and to be told everything would be all right. But that was kids stuff, female emotional craving, and this was the military. "You're right," she sighed. "I'll talk to Cal… later." She was still too irritated to deal with him rationally right now.

"Just don't leave anything unresolved that you'll regret later," Franz smiled then, and took his hands off her shoulders.

"You sound like my mother," Sara smirked up at him.

"For now, that's probably for the best," Franz replied enigmatically. "I've got to get back to the office. See you around."

"Yeah, see you." Sara nodded as she followed him out into the hallway a few seconds behind. For now. Sara was getting tired of '_later_' and '_not yet_' and '_someday_' but after waiting for years, she knew she could wait a little longer for that maybe.

"Well, that's all I've got," Ed commented as he set the papers he held down in his lap and grinned. "Anything else before I give these reports to Breda?"

"Nothing else on my end," Roy shook his head. They had spent the past two hours finalizing the report for Breda and the Assembly – more for the Assembly – on the current state of the State Alchemy program in Amestris over-all. Roy sighed and leaned back on the couch in his office. "For once things have been relatively quiet."

"Hopefully that includes quiet relatives," Ed teased, but it was a mild jibe.

Roy actually smiled, if only a little. "Fortunately," he replied. "I have to say, it's been amazing the changes Sara's managed in Maes when no one else could. You were right, Ed."

"Can I get that in writing, or maybe recorded audio?" Ed chuckled. "They've been friends for too long for her to give up on him. You knew that as much as I did."

Roy nodded, sighing heavily. "It's true. I just wish he would get over her. But there's no way to push that."

"Everything works itself out eventually," Ed nodded. "We just have to be patient."

"Somehow I never thought I'd hear those words coming from you, Ed," Roy chuckled.

Ed shrugged, smirking. "Yeah well, I don't think either of us ever figured on your son having a thing for my daughter."

"Touché," Roy replied. "Though that's playing with fire even I wouldn't want to touch." He shook his head. "Which reminds me, do you have any idea what's up with the Whitewater Alchemist?"

"Fischer?" Ed shook his head. "No, why?"

"He brought his reports up this morning. I had a few questions about one of his recent assignments. He was looking a little shell-shocked and when I asked him why, all he did was apologize."

"That is strange." Ed couldn't imagine what would rattle Cal Fischer at HQ. "No ideas?"

"Just one," Roy replied. "Rumor has it your daughter cornered him this morning and they had some kind of argument in the supply room."

What? "I don't know what that's about," Ed admitted, frowning. "They aren't friends as far as I know, but she's never complained about him either. Really, he's not come up in conversation. How did you hear about this?"

"Someone in the next office over recognized the voices," Roy shrugged. "I was pretty surprised to hear it actually. Usually Sara doesn't act quite that much like you."

"Only I would have gone off on someone in the office instead of taking it somewhere quieter," Ed smirked, but without amusement. Talk about confusing. "I'll have a word with her and see if I can find out what happened."

"I'd be curious to know what it was," Roy nodded then shrugged. "If it were any other pair I'd suggest a lover's quarrel from the sounds of it but…"

Ed snorted. "Yeah, right." He didn't believe that any more than Roy did!

"How's the chaos at home?" Roy asked then with a smile as he stretched and leaned forward, dropping his own papers on the table between them.

Ed chuckled as he straightened up the work and stood. "Pretty relaxed at this point really. Ethan's pretty self sufficient when it comes to getting things done. If he's not at the hospital helping out he's working with Winry or he's got his nose buried in books between alchemy sessions. Somewhere in there he finds time for friends and everything else, but he can get himself where he needs to be at this point."

"That's relaxed?" Roy raised his eyebrow skeptically.

"Only in that he's out of the house or doing something on his own half the time," Ed shrugged. "Everything's ready for the new arrival. Not much else to do there but wait, and it's Aldon's privilege to stress over that, not mine!" His son was doing that _admirably_ too. "Having him and Cassandra at our place has been a pleasure more than anything else."

"I'm almost jealous," Roy sighed as he stood as well. "Maes still seems so lost sometimes. For all the chaos, what would be a source of major conflict in some families just fits right into yours."

"Flexibility," Ed shrugged again and smiled, "And perspective. There are times I'm a father, and times I'm more of a friend. There are worse things in life than a brief lapse in common sense. Winry and I could have been bitter and angry, but what's the point? If I'd ever been in Aldon's situation, I'd probably have responded the same way. I'm just glad we have a world they can live in where they can grow up innocent and _be_ young kids in love without dire consequences and complications. Compared to the alternatives, I'm good with what we've got." It was better than getting themselves killed in situations they might not even fully understand, or – though he didn't say it aloud – self-destructive behavior like what Maes was dealing with getting past.

"This is why I'm jealous," Roy chuckled. "Give them all my best, okay, Grandpa?"

Ed laughed. "You can call me that in a few _weeks_. And I will." Really, he was looking forward to it.

Ed left Roy's office and swung by Breda's, dropping off the paperwork and then heading back down to his own office. He got his chance to talk to Sara sooner than he expected, as he spotted her coming down the hallway in the opposite direction. "Twilight," he waved her down. He refrained from just calling her Sara in public at HQ. No matter how you took it – General or Alchemist - here he was a superior officer.

Sara looked up from the forms in her hands and smiled. "Fullmetal." She stopped just short of his office door.

"Can we talk a minute?" Ed asked, closing the distance.

"Sure," Sara nodded, following him inside. "What did you want to talk about?"

"I just had a question," Ed replied. "What were you yelling at the Whitewater Alchemist about this morning?"

Sara's reaction wasn't entirely what he'd expected. She stiffened and swallowed. "Depends on who's asking."

"What do you mean?"

"Is it General Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, or Edward Elric?" Sara clarified, meeting his eyes, her expression revealing nothing else. In his experience that meant there was something to keep from being revealed.

Ed sighed. That meant it was probably personal. Did he really want to know this? "As whichever one will get me the most detailed answer," he countered.

Sara's expression steeled, then she seemed to relent. "Fine. He said some really spiteful things to Maes last year that aggravated things and, I'm convinced, were part of what really made him lose it. He pissed me off, and I had a few words with him about the inappropriateness of his behavior. How did _you_ hear about it?"

"The Flame Alchemist heard a rumor," Ed replied. There was no reason to hide it, and maybe the reminder would help Sara remember just _why_ Ed had gotten so good at keeping his temper at Headquarters! "Not from anyone in your office," he added when Sara frowned. "But that supply room has walls on more than one office."

Sara's eyes widened in comprehension. "I see."

"Just what did Cal say to Maes to set you off like that?" Ed really couldn't imagine. Sara had always been one to let people fight their own battles if they could. She wasn't _that_ protective of Maes Mustang the last he checked.

Sara's face flushed. "I'm sorry, Sir. I can't divulge that information."

"Sara." It was entirely _dad voice_; a tone he almost never used anymore except with Ethan.

She glared at him and Ed couldn't tell now if she was blushing or angry or both. Either way, her mouth was firmly clamped shut for nearly a minute. Was she going to cry? Hell, what was really that bad? "He insinuated some things about… ah hell." She shook her head violently and looked embarrassed as tears spilled down her cheeks. "I'm sorry. I just can't say it!"

With that she turned and vanished out the door, leaving Ed feeling more than a little bewildered and worried. What the hell could Calvin Fischer have ever said to Maes that Sara couldn't repeat! He had a feeling he would be a very long time in finding out.

"Twilight!" Sara heard Cal Fischer call her name from halfway across the parade grounds as she headed for the gates to go home about an hour after her conversation with her father. "Wait up!" Sara sighed, stopped, and turned to see him _actually_ running to catch up.

"What do you need, Whitewater?" she asked shortly. He pulled up fast, stopping a few feet away – just outside of easy striking range.

He put one hand behind his head and sighed, looking embarrassed. "Sara, please can we talk. I need to apologize."

Need, not _want_ necessarily. "You have two minutes," Sara replied, crossing her arms and looking up at him. She really didn't want to deal with him right now, but she supposed it was better to just get this over with.

Cal swallowed, clearly nervous. "Look, I'm sorry about picking on Mustang, really; at least telling him about us. You're right; it wasn't my place and it was pretty poor taste."

"It was," Sara nodded. "I really didn't have any regrets about that until I found out who you'd gone and told. Now, I wish it had never happened."

Cal sighed and seemed to deflate a little. "I should apologize for that too. I know I didn't force you into anything Sara, but I still took advantage of the situation when it presented itself. You're not like most girls. You're actually a challenge, a temptation, the complete package…and I was too much of a cad to hold myself back."

"You seem to have that problem a lot," Sara said glibly. "You should really work on it, Fischer. But, I accept the apology." He obviously meant it.

Cal's relief was evident.

"What made you decide to apologize?" He had been indignant earlier, and as mad as she was!

"Well I was waffling, and Torv and Ragnar told me if I didn't they would rearrange my arms…without alchemy."

Sara groaned. "Torv and Ragnar know now too?" How was this _better_?

"I didn't tell them!" Cal's eyes went wide and he waved his hands in front of him frantically. "They just said that if I'd managed to piss _you_ off that badly it had to be my fault and I should apologize!"

Okay, she could live with that. Sara made a mental note to thank the other two alchemists later. "My _father_ wanted to know what we argued about, Whitewater." That was the part that hurt today. Yes it was her fault for going off on Cal _at_ work, but she was only willing to take half the blame for the situation.

Cal winced and seemed to shrink a little more. There was real fear in his eyes. "Does he…know?"

Sara smirked. Let him wriggle a little, thinking the Fullmetal Alchemist might be pissed at him. But no, she couldn't leave it that way. It wasn't fair. "No. He has no idea, and he never will if I can help it." Standing in her father's office with the perfect opening, she just hadn't been able to tell him about it. Some part of her still didn't want to disappoint Dad.

"I get you," Cal nodded. "I won't say a word about it ever again, I swear."

"And Maes?"

Cal frowned. "You're pretty pushy, you know that? Yeah, I'll lay off him too. It's easier to just avoid him anyway, though I don't know why you're willing to put that much effort into the guy for no return."

"He's a friend," Sara replied evenly. "I never abandon my friends, Cal, no matter how stupid they act or how badly they mess up. Call it friendship; call it loyalty, call it foolishness; whatever you want, but that's how I am."

"Damn, Sara," Cal said softly after a long minute. Sara wasn't sure she understood the expression on his face. "No wonder Mustang's so messed up over you; you really are the whole package." He sounded almost like he didn't believe his own earlier assertion until now.

Sara felt her face flush hot. "I don't need your endorsement, Fischer," she replied, not sure really how else to respond to that comment. "I'm not that hard to figure out if you pay attention."

"So does that mean you're not going to kill me?" Cal dared a flash of a smile.

"Don't push your luck," Sara sniffed. "I'm sorry I went off on you earlier; it wasn't professional. We're colleagues, Cal, but we're _not_ friends. While you ponder that, I'm going to go home and try and forget this morning ever happened. Good night." With that, she turned and kept walking.

Maybe Cal really could learn; he didn't try and stop her. Sara didn't look back to see his reaction. He was a big boy, he could handle himself. At least she knew how she felt about_ one_ guy, and in this case it was _not interested_. If he wanted to be friends then maybe someday that might work, if he was willing to put in the effort.

**May 15****th****, 1950**

Winry arrived home from work a little early. It had been a very busy day. Instead of going into the workshop she had spent the day at the hospital, assisting with three auto-mail port surgeries. On the way home, she had stopped at the market and picked up fresh fruit and vegetables as well as steaks. Today seemed like it would be a nice evening for grilling, and with a full house again they went through food rather _quickly_. She was sure Ethan was about to have another growth spurt; he was going through everything like, well, like Edward had at that age! Fortunately, Ethan was only _that_ ravenous when he was growing.

In the living room, Winry paused and smiled at the sight that greeted her. Cassandra had her easel set up with canvas and was working on a painting. "Well that's lovely," she commented as she looked at the half-finished work.

Cassandra looked up, and smiled back. "Thank you. It's far from finished, but you have this delightful little redbird that likes to perch in the rosebush out there," she gestured out along the backyard fence, at the rose bush with the bright white blossoms. "He's been out there every day for the past week, so I figured he might be kind enough to model for me."

"Well he seems to be doing just fine so far," Winry looked out at the bush. Sure enough, there was a little red bird sitting in it. "Though he'll probably move when I go outside in a little bit. I thought grilled steak and vegetables would be nice tonight."

"That's all right. I'm about done for today anyway," Cassandra said, setting down her paintbrush. "I can only sit like this for so long before my back complains." She stood up slowly and Winry felt nothing but sympathy. She remembered far too well how stiff and awkward the last month of pregnancy was! Aldon had been right though; while Cassandra would admit to discomfort, she never complained. "Or someone wakes up and gets bored," she added with a chuckle, patting her belly. "In this case, it's both."

Winry headed for the kitchen to put down the groceries. "Probably hungry too," she chuckled.

"And if the baby isn't, I am," Cassandra said, following her into the kitchen. "Would you like some help?"

"Sure," Winry agreed easily. This was the first week Cassandra wasn't working, and she could imagine the other woman was getting a little tired of hanging out around the house! She was fine, but when you worked _with_ the doctors who told you it was time to take it easy, Winry guessed it was pretty much impossible to go to work. "If you'd like to go ahead and get started on the vegetables; I want to grill them up too with oil and herbs."

"That sounds tasty," Cassandra came over and started pulling fresh vegetables out of the bag. "Wow there's a lot here. Who are we feeding, the military?" she joked.

"Just most of it," Winry laughed as she pulled out the steaks that needed marinating. "I invited the whole family over. We don't seem to have time to get together enough lately with everyone doing their own thing half the time. Sara will be here, and Alphonse and Elicia and their kids, and Gracia too."

"Sounds like a real party," Cassandra smiled. "Though you're right, that is like feeding most of the military. Do you have enough?"

"Depends on if Edward and Alphonse were running drills today with the students or not," Winry shrugged. "Ethan spends half his time at home with his head in the refrigerator anyway, and Elicia said Will's been the same. I just assume the boys will all be hungry and I haven't been wrong yet, and Elicia and Gracia always bring food as well," she added.

"So if this one's a boy I'll have an excuse?" Cassandra chuckled softly.

"Worked for me," Winry giggled as she laid out the meat.

By the time the meat was ready to go on the grill and the vegetables and fruit were chopped, most of the family had arrived. Gracia brought dessert – as always – and Elicia salad and sausages.

"Don't you think we have enough meat?" Winry chuckled as she passed the steaks off to Ed to go on the grill.

"Have you seen my son lately?" Elicia shook her head. "He's going to be taller than Al!"

"Well that makes sense," Gracia chuckled. "After all, Maes was pretty tall, and Alphonse isn't short. Didn't you say his father was fairly tall, Winry?"

Winry nodded. "Oh definitely. Ed really is the short one in the family."

"I heard that!"

"You always do!" Winry called back as they laid out food on the tables. Then everything was ready except for the grilling, and she could enjoy herself and the conversations going on around her. It was also an excuse for Winry to pull out the camera and get more pictures of the family; a rare opportunity these days. She enjoyed watching everyone have a good time, going from one group to the next. Ed and Al were pretty stationary since they were in charge of the grill. Aldon hung out with them for a little while, then talked to Sara, veering back in Cassandra's direction every so often to check on his wife. It was cute, and oh so very familiar behavior. Winry, Elicia, and Gracia exchanged knowing looks over that one.

Will hung out mostly with Ethan and Alyse, but he spent a lot more time talking with Ed and Al too. He was a couple of years older than his sister and Ethan, and no more of a kid than anyone else in the family. Elicia said Will's current interests seemed to lie in studying history in college in a couple of years; history and philosophy and who knew what else and, of course, to keep up his alchemy. Alyse was much more the grand-daughter of both of her grandmothers than anything else. She wasn't silly or air headed, but she was more of a girl than Winry had ever been. She actually wore dresses by choice and was well-mannered and sweet and very social. She wasn't entirely sure what she wanted to do yet, but there was always time.

Sara spent a lot of time chatting with her Dad and Uncle, as usual, and with Aldon, but she also spent a lot of time with Ethan and their cousins off at the far end of the yard doing – what else – alchemy. Winry had to admit, sometimes she felt a little sad when she watched her oldest child, even though she knew she shouldn't. Sara loved what she was doing and she was happy. Still, Winry had just always figured it would be Sara who got married and had children first. Of course, she knew that wasn't going to happen anytime soon, and it really shouldn't. There was plenty of time. She couldn't see Sara happy in that situation at this point in her life either. It worried Winry though that, sometimes, she couldn't really see it at all. The future was always full of surprises though; she had learned that the hard way.

Almost as soon as the meat hit the table, it was gone.

"I was right," Winry chuckled after the first two rounds were snatched up in moments. She knew Ed and Al's never made it _to_ the table; they always grabbed first dibs!

"It's a little frightening," Cassandra chuckled, conceding the point. Not that she had ever disagreed. "Like watching starving dogs."

"Well you have the starving part right," Al chuckled as he came up to them. "Thanks for inviting us, Winry. This was a great idea."

"Thanks, Al," Winry smiled. "I know Ed and Sara see you almost every day, but getting all of us in one place anymore seems to be quite a trick."

Alyse came zipping up the stairs to the deck, almost going between them. "Ewww!" she grimaced. "Moooom! Make them stop!"

Elicia turned around. "What are they doing now?" she asked.

Winry looked out at the picnic table as Alyse pointed. "Oh my."

Al turned as well and his eyes widened. "I didn't think anyone could eat like that but Ed!"

Will and Ethan, somehow, were locked in a test of wills or – Winry thought – stomachs. She wasn't sure she'd ever seen frankfurters vanish that quickly. Except, as Al had so excellently pointed out, during _their_ childhood. The look on Ethan's face was just that familiar as well.

"Should we stop this?" Elicia asked.

"Is that possible?" Cassandra asked, looking mildly nauseated.

"Let them," Winry shrugged and grinned wickedly. "It's their own fault if they give themselves indigestion." Though she suspected that wasn't a lesson that Ethan would be facing; not as he proved to be more and more like his father.

Ed came up beside her, watching with about as much interest as he would a sparring match. "Good form."

Winry stared at him. "I can't believe you just said that!"

Ed looked over at her, confused, and finished his steak. "What?"

"Oh, never mind." Winry rolled her eyes as Ed smirked at her. He was messing with her, as usual! "You are incorrigible."

Ed's expression grew even smugger. "That's why you're still with me isn't it?"

She wanted to hit him, but there wasn't a wrench nearby and there were too many other people she might hit. So Winry settled for punching him in the arm. "Yeah," she admitted with a laugh. And really, given everything they had been through, the fact that Edward was still _Edward_ was practically a miracle. "That has to be it."

"Thought so," Ed laughed, leaned over, and kissed her cheek. "I think I'm going to go grab seconds before the rabid wolverines down there devour everything."

"He gets it from you, you know," Winry commented.

"Yeah, I know." Ed grinned and headed down off the deck.

"_Is_ that what wolverines eating looks like?" Cassandra asked then, still looking grossed out.

Winry laughed. "I have no idea, but it seems like an apt description."

"I think…maybe I should hope we're having a girl," Cassandra chuckled.

Winry smiled. "They're usually not as bad," she agreed. Sara wasn't except when she was training hard, and that was a function of necessity! "If nothing else, she would be cheaper to feed."

Cassandra nodded emphatically. "That's exactly what I'm hoping! Really though, I'd be happy with either."

"Given we don't really get a choice in the issue, that's a good thing," Winry replied. A _very _good thing.

**May 18****th****, 1950**

"And that's when I transmuted his faked papers into a hat," Maes laughed, hitting the punch-line of the story, a tale of one of his missions from a while back that Sara had never had the chance to hear. There were a lot of those actually. "When the border guards got there, well," he shrugged and grinned, "There wasn't anything he could do."

"Cruel, but funny," Sara chuckled, sipping her soda. "Certainly easier than proving they were fakes." This was nice; she had to admit, though she had been skeptical of Maes' motivations at first. When she'd gotten back, she had gone out for sodas like she had agreed, and had been relieved when an evening out with Maes was well…like hanging out had been before for the most part. They had talked, had sodas, and he'd never once given her a look or tried to hit on her or talk about his feelings. They talked about alchemy, movies, and whatever else they felt like and it had been casual and relaxing and a good choice of venue since Sara knew there was little chance of Maes running into the _wrong_ kinds of women, or drinks, in the soda shop.

After that, she had been more willing to just hang out the way they used to when Maes offered. It was nice that he was trying. He even agreed to come out on one of the group outings with a couple of her friends from work and Aldon to an outdoor concert in the park – Cassie had, understandably, begged off – and Maes seemed to have a good time. He had spoken up hesitantly at first during the conversations before and afterwards, but by the end seemed to be enjoying himself, and he didn't piss anyone off; definitely marked improvement!

"Yeah it was pretty mean," Maes admitted with a shrug. "But I wasn't just going to let him out of the country, even if he wasn't my target!" Just a fortunate stumble across a con-artist trying to make a get away.

"Talk about luck," Sara smiled. Tonight was no different; and Maes was definitely starting to behave like the old Maes; at work as well as with her. The worst seemed past; at least she hoped so. "We should probably go," she commented, looking up at the clock on the wall. The place would be closing soon. It was open fairly late in nice weather, because they got customers out walking later in the evenings.

"I'll walk you home," Maes offered, standing and leaving a tip. It wasn't a question; it wasn't suggestive.

"If you insist," Sara smirked as they headed out the door. It was so easy to slide back into old patterns of behavior when her friend was reacting the way her instincts told her he should.

The night was warm and cloudless, and the sky above Central shone more clearly with stars than usual. It was pretty. They walked along in no particular hurry.

"Can you imagine what it would be like to go high enough to touch them?" Maes commented, apparently looking at the stars as well.

"Dad said once that on the other side of the Gate people thought they could get there on rockets," Sara commented, pausing to look up at them more. "He studied them, and learned how to build them. He said he lost interest some though, when he realized they probably couldn't bring him home. Still, he thinks that with powerful enough rockets you probably could get to the stars, though he has no idea how much fuel you'd need to boost one that high."

They started walking again. "That would require incredible combustion," Maes agreed enthusiastically, "Or one hell of an explosion!"

"You'd know," Sara smiled. "It would be something to see, but he said that most of the people with that kind of science used it for warfare as much, or more than, for the good of others." She shrugged sadly. "Dad has a really small model of one of the rockets he worked on at home on a shelf. It's fascinating to look at, but it's probably better that we'll never see one in Amestris."

"Probably," Maes nodded. "A shame, but people are people, and some things don't change, no matter where you are." He stopped as they reached the door behind Rockbell Auto-Mail that led to the stairs up to Sara's apartment.

"Sometimes though," Sara smiled at him. "That can be a good thing."

Maes laughed, and blushed, and then shrugged. "Thank goodness for that. Thanks for the soda."

"Thanks for the conversation," Sara countered as she started to turn to go. She barely had time to register what was happening when Maes suddenly bent down and kissed her!

It wasn't a long kiss; Sara didn't even have time to be angry or pull back or make much of a decision on anything before Maes stepped back, looking almost as stunned as she did that he had dared to try such a thing at all! He licked his lips, staring back at her, and then blushed furiously. "I… I'm sorry. I wasn't planning to do that it just kind of…"

Sara shook herself and sighed. "It's all right, Maes. I know you weren't." If he had been, he wouldn't be acting so skittish! It had been, she realized as what had happened sunk in, nothing more than a kiss; a brush of lips. At least she hadn't felt any surge of electricity, any emotional response really. It had been rather flat and, really, more how she might imagine kissing her brother…though_ that_ thought made her cringe a little!

Maes looked no less concerned and a little confused. "I screwed up again didn't I?" he replied. "You…you didn't like it." It wasn't phrased as a question.

"It's not that," Sara replied, leaning back against the wall of the building. "What I mean is, I'm sorry but no. I didn't really feel anything. It wasn't good, it wasn't bad." Which, she supposed, at least in her mind told her for certain more than anything else that as much as she loved Maes like a brother, she wasn't _in love_ with him by any stretch of the imagination.

"Then…at least that's done with," Maes sighed. "I don't suppose you'll want to hang out again soon."

"Sure I will," Sara smiled, startling him again. She was getting good at that. "Just don't try that again, okay? I'd die for you; I'll defend your name and reputation, no matter how tarnished, till the end; but if you kiss me again I'll have to rip your lips off and feed them to Uncle Al's cats."

Maes winced, but at least he smiled weakly. "Thanks for not being too mad. I guess I'm still not really good with self control am I?"

"You do tend to make more trouble for yourself," Sara said, hoping he understood that, stunned as she was, she wasn't really mad at him. Though that fact surprised_ her_ as well. "Though I guess that's why you have me around to cover your ass," Sara smiled impishly.

Maes chuckled at the irony. "Not the way I wanted, but always the way I need. I should go. Good night, Sara."

"'Night, Maes," Sara watched him turn and walk off into the night. Then she went upstairs, still muddling over the jumble of thoughts in her head and the suddenness with which her realization had occurred. Nothing! She had really felt nothing. No sparks, no disgust. Kissing _Mars_ had always been a warm, pleasant experience; a little exciting, even though their three years of dating hadn't been a torrid love affair of any kind, but a relaxed and friendly relationship. The nights with Cal, fueled by emotions and the need for release — _those_ kisses had been pretty steamy. She knew the differences now, and the lack of response on her part to the kiss Maes had given her tonight was a pretty solid indicator that she wasn't interested in him that way at all.

Oddly enough, that was a huge relief; and that relief was also probably a pretty sure indicator of her feelings as well. Sara got into her pajamas and curled up in bed, feeling sorry for Maes, but glad that there was no longer a question. Maybe now he would be able to move on.

Maybe now, she wouldn't feel guilty about dwelling much more longingly on thoughts of what it might be like to _finally_ kiss Franz, and maybe figure out how deeply her feelings for him really went, and vice versa.

**June 6****th****, 1950**

"Are you really going to go running in that?" Sara asked her father as he came into the living room.

Edward looked down and then back up and shrugged. "What's wrong with it?" he asked. Not that he really cared! He went running in shorts all the time. As the weather got hotter, he preferred to fore-go a shirt, especially if they weren't running really early in the morning.

Sara giggled. "Oh nothing," she shook her head. "But it sure explains the comments I keep hearing from the neighbors, and at HQ."

"Comments?" Ed was used to people _talking_ about him. Winry had complained about women drooling over him since he was in his twenties, though that seemed to have stopped over the years. Or at least, her complaints had; Ed never heard about the women. He didn't really care either.

"Oh yeah," Sara rolled her eyes. "You are so clueless, Dad. Every woman in Central between sixteen and ninety-plus thinks still thinks you're hot. Now I know where they're getting their visuals!"

Ed felt his face flush red, and Sara – and Winry, who was sitting at the breakfast table sipping coffee and working on the books for Rockbell Auto-mail – both laughed. Covering his unease he flashed them both a grin and shrugged. "Let them look," he smirked.

Winry rolled her eyes, obviously not fooled. "Makes you wonder how many of them plan their morning around when you jog by," she teased.

"Winry!" So much for playing it _cool._ He was hot all over now. "Let's get going," he looked at Sara. "You're the one who wanted to do this."

"Cause you _always_ laze around in bed on Saturday mornings," Sara chuckled sarcastically, heading for the door. She paused though as Aldon came running down the stairs, looking a little wide-eyed.

"Not to be an alarmist," Aldon squeaked. "But I think we need the doctor…now!"

Winry was on her feet in a moment and coming over to where she could see Aldon directly. "Calm down, Aldon," she said. "What's going on?"

Aldon fidgeted on the stairs. "Well, we think…Cassie's water broke. She's really uncomfortable and…" his face flushed. Obviously he wasn't really sure how much to say or what in front of everyone.  
"Breathe," Winry replied; it sounded like a command. "I'll come take a look all right?" She headed for the stairs.

"Right," Aldon nodded, and then vanished back upstairs.

"Maybe we should stick around," Sara commented softly as Winry went up as well.

Ed nodded and chuckled, shrugging. "Not sure how much use we'll be, but you're right."

It was only another couple of minutes before Winry came downstairs, wiping her hands on a small towel. "Edward, call the hospital." She didn't look worried, just all-business. "Tell them to get Stevenson or Gray over here as soon as they can. If they argue, threaten to turn them into goats or something."

Ed would have laughed if it weren't for the seriousness of the situation. "We've got some time don't we?" It wasn't like he didn't have some experience with childbirth!

"Maybe a few hours," Winry shook her head. "By my guess, she was probably having contractions all night. It's possible to miss the mild ones or," she shrugged,. "Simply ignore them if it's just a feeling of general discomfort. But her water's broken and things are moving fast."

"Calling," Ed headed for the phone and dialed the number he had _long_ since memorized. The news on the other end however was not overly helpful. "It may be a while," he informed Winry with a sigh when he got off the phone. "They've got four ladies delivering over there already this morning and a pretty crowded emergency room." Privately, Ed wondered just _what_ everyone had been doing that they had that much free time last winter! "They said they'll have someone over as soon as they can get an available doctor and to call back when things get closer."

Winry snorted. "That may be too late. All right then you two," she looked at him and their daughter. "I'm going to need water boiled for sterilization; clean scissors, some fresh towels. We'll need clean sheets for later but get those last."

"What are you going to do, Mom?" Sara asked.

Winry shrugged. "It looks like I may be delivering a baby." She turned then and vanished back upstairs.

Sara looked over at Ed with wide eyes. "Is she serious?"

Ed chuckled. "Your mom knows as much about childbirth as any of the doctors unless something serious happens, and she survived all three of you. Don't forget, she was assisting in auto-mail surgeries even when she was eleven too. She's not squeamish and she knows what she's doing."

"I'm going to go find the towels," Sara swallowed. "And scissors."

"I'll boil water," Ed smirked. "I have some experience with that." Hell, he could have just put it in a pan and zapped it the way he had the first time he'd ever transmuted without a circle, but it wasn't necessary. He went to the kitchen and put on a pot then slipped upstairs to change clothes and check on the situation.

The door to Aldon and Cassandra's bedroom was closed so Ed didn't intrude, but when he came back out Aldon was in the hallway looking a little green. "Are you all right?" Ed asked him, concerned that something might be happening out of the ordinary. It was funny how much less nervous he was when it wasn't _his _child being born, even if it was his grand-child!

Aldon swallowed and nodded. "Yeah. I'm getting Cassie some ice water. I just…"

Ed laid a hand on his shoulder. "Is she all right?"

"Mom says so," Aldon replied, though he looked a little doubtful. From the uncomfortable sounds that came from inside the room at that moment, Ed understood why! Still, it didn't sound worse than Winry's deliveries; the first two anyway. Ethan's birth had been a very different experience. "She drafted Ethan to help her out," he added, not looking overly reassured at that either!

"Then I'm sure everything's fine," Ed smiled. "Let's go back downstairs and get that ice water." He shoved Aldon toward the stairs. "You look like you could use something too. Don't pass out this early on!"

"I won't," Aldon frowned at him as they headed downstairs. "I just didn't realize how umm… messy things were going to get so fast."

"That's one way of putting it," Ed led the way into the kitchen and checked the big pot of water. It was warm, but not boiling yet. That was fine. He knew what Aldon was referring to as well; remembering well the amount of fluid that came out after water broke. It continued until the birth was done though, at least it looked for the most part like water. If Aldon was squeamish this early on, Ed was a little worried about his son's surviving the business-end of the birth when things got that far.

Aldon nodded, obviously trying to keep together, and doing no better than any other young man on the verge of fatherhood. He stood there long enough that Ed actually pulled out a pitcher himself and started filling it with ice, then water, then shoved it in Aldon's hands. His son blushed. "Sorry, I'm kind of distracted."

"Get back to your wife," Ed smirked at him, shoving a glass into his other hand. "Pick up a washcloth on the way up too. You can use some of that to keep her cool if she wants."

"Thanks, Dad," Aldon nodded at the suggestion and headed back out.

Sara joined Ed in the kitchen a minute later with an amused look on her face. "I've never seen Aldon really panic before."

"His entire world's about to change forever, be a little sympathetic," Ed shook his head and smiled back at her. "Someday you could be on the working end of this too you know." He had the satisfaction of watching his daughter's face turn bright red; revenge for her earlier comments.

"Don't hold your breath," Sara replied. "You'd asphyxiate before that happens."

"I said _someday_," Ed shrugged. "I probably would have been as bad before you were born if I hadn't been half dead at the time."

"At least Aldon hasn't been dueling alchemists," Sara chuckled. "No I won't tease him. At least not right now."

"Good, or you might be dueling _me_," Ed laughed. "Ethan's upstairs assisting."

"Ethan?" Sara looked a little surprised.

"Why not?" Ed looked at her. "He's been working with Stevenson for months now, and studying. It's a great experience and he's not going to panic. That makes him infinitely more helpful than Al and Nina and I were when Elicia was born."

"You know how weird it is when you say that so casually about my _aunt _right?" Sara rolled her eyes and smirked. "That's still bizarre for some reason."

"Take it up with Alphonse. He's the one who fell in love with her," Ed shrugged. "Get those towels upstairs and I'll give the hospital another call."

There was still no one available. Winry came down and talked to the hospital herself, and was able to at least get a brief moment to _confer_ with Stevenson about the situation, then went back upstairs.

Ed was soon regulated to keeping the water hot. He would have been willing to go upstairs and be more helpful, but he suspected that Cassandra would not have appreciated having her father-in-law in the room watching, no matter how well they got along! Having Ethan in there might be a little weird for her as it was given how modest she was. At least Sara and Winry were female. Even so, Sara spent most of her time outside the room down with Ed.

"I don't think I like this part of things any more than Aldon does," Sara admitted a couple of hours later after running up more ice water.

"What's the word?" Ed asked as she sat down at the table.

Sara grimaced. "Almost completely dilated already; Mom said some other stuff, but really, I didn't understand the significance so I didn't pay much attention."

Ed probably would have at this point, but that was enough to tell him things were still progressing very quickly, which explained why Aldon hadn't appeared in over an hour, or Winry. Ethan came down once or twice for things then vanished again, looking determined and focused.

As lunch time neared, Ed and Sara busied themselves making up sandwiches for whoever would actually eat them. From upstairs, they could occasionally hear sounds other than footsteps and muffled voices. Once or twice Cassandra actually cried out. Sara looked extremely uncomfortable.

"Sounds like it's almost over," Ed commented calmly. "Another hour if that."

"How can you tell?" Sara glanced over at him as she sliced up fruit.

"Experience," Ed smiled back. Really, everything was sounding almost textbook and with no one coming down to insist they rush to the hospital, or call the doctor _again. _Things were going just fine. "The most painful part is right before the mother actually pushes and delivers. Of course I'm basing all this off sound," he shrugged. "If anything was wrong trust me, we'd know about it."

Sara glanced out the kitchen door towards the upstairs. "It would be more reassuring to be sure everything was really going _right_."

Winry suspected there was really no more satisfying job she had ever done than the successful, if unplanned, delivery of her first grandchild! It had been as emotional an experience as the birth of her own children, but oddly calming not being the one actually giving birth. Cassandra had handled the entire thing extremely well, and all Winry had been required to do really was catch the baby, cut the cord and tie it off, and then she had gently bathed the baby and swaddled him in a soft blanket and handed him to his father; another little boy in the Elric family.

Aldon took the baby hesitantly, looking for all the world like he feared breaking the infant he cradled close. His eyes were wide and damp, but he was smiling broadly. "My God…" he whispered breathlessly after a minute.

"Your son," Winry chuckled quietly as she went back to Cassandra. After-birth was messier in some ways than the rest of it, but everything was done now, no complications, no problems; just one very tired new mother, one rather bewildered new father, and one likely confused baby! "Beautifully done," she smiled at Cassandra. "How do you feel now?"

"Like I could sleep for a month," Cassandra chuckled softly. "And I could really use a bath."

"A shower at least can be arranged," Winry smiled, understanding completely. "And food too when you're hungry. Ethan," she looked over at her son, who was cleaning up baby-bathing supplies and sterilizing things in the pot of hot water. "I'd like you to change the sheets and finish cleaning up in here once Cassie and I are in the bathroom all right?"

Ethan nodded. "Sure, Mom."

"All right, go fetch the sheets and tell your Dad and Sara it's over," Winry smiled. "Did you two ever decide on a name?" she asked, watching her older son holding _his_ son; a wonderful sight.

"Coran," Cassandra spoke up immediately. "Coran Elric."

Aldon just nodded, eyes still riveted to the tiny face peering out of the blanket, blinking his little eyes and whimpering. Winry had kept the light minimal so he wouldn't have to deal with glaring lights.

"That's a lovely name," Winry replied. It really was. "I'll be right back." She slipped out right behind Ethan, wanting to give the new family a little time by themselves. She headed into the bathroom.

* * *

Aldon had thought near the end, several times in fact, that he was going to faint. He was glad he hadn't had breakfast; it probably wouldn't have stayed down. He had been surprisingly squeamish through the whole thing, but the new life in his arms, his son, made it all worth it! The wrinkled pink face looked up at him, eyes blinking in the low light.

"Can I hold him?" Cassie asked softly, chuckling.

"Oh, of course," Aldon looked up, embarrassed. He sat down on the bed and relinquished the baby to his mother. "He's just incredible. You're incredible."

Cassie cradled Coran in her arms, and Aldon drank in the sight of them together as he put one arm gently around her shoulder. "You were pretty _incredible_ yourself," she chuckled.

"Me?" Aldon snorted. "All I did was try not to pass out."

"You were here for me, even with that," Cassie chuckled. "That means a lot, Don."

Aldon kissed her forehead. "I love you. Of course I was here." He was glad to be appreciated though. He still wasn't sure he wasn't going to pass out_ later_. Listening and watching Cassie in so much discomfort had been a nerve wracking experience.

"Most men wait outside," Cassie pointed out. "But you were right here, with us."

"Bathroom's ready," Winry said from the doorway. Aldon looked up as his mother came back into the room. "Bear with me, but I'll be helping you out," she smiled at Cassie. "Getting up and down is a little difficult for the first few hours."

"I can imagine," Cassie smiled tiredly. "Thanks, Winry, for everything."

Winry flushed, but she looked pleased. "I just did what needed doing," she replied humbly. "You're the one who did most of the work, Cassie."

"Don," Cassie looked up at him and held up Coran. "Take him again please."

Aldon gathered his son back up as his Mom helped Cassie sit up and stand. Cassie leaned on Winry for a moment then stood and the two women walked out of the room.

Ethan dodged in after they left and grinned at him. "You look a little green there '_Dad_,'" he chuckled as he started stripping the bed sheets and cleaning up.

Aldon swallowed and got out of the way, avoiding watching. He focused on his son instead, who had drifted off to sleep. "I _feel _a little green," he admitted with a chuckle.

"That's all right," Ethan cleaned off the bed, bundling the dirty sheets in the corner to go down to the laundry. "This kind of stuff takes some getting used to. Still, that was great! When I'm helping clean up in the maternity wing at the hospital, some of the women scream and cry and curse and you'd think they were crazy; you can hear them in the hallway. Cassie was a lot calmer. "

"Well she is a nurse," Aldon pointed out, still feeling proud of his wife. "She's better with this kind of stuff, and she knew what to do. I don't know what we'd have done without Mom though." He had never seen Winry _in_ auto-mail surgery, even though he knew she had been assisting in them for years now. It was part of her job and, at least in her field, the doctors in Central respected her abilities. Still, he sometimes forgot that his mother was even more than an auto-mail engineer. Her parents had been surgeons; she could have easily been a doctor if she wanted to pursue that instead of auto-mail. She had been so calm, so outwardly relaxed as she made suggestions, explained what was going on, and patiently helped.

"Mom really knows her stuff," Ethan nodded. "Of course, she had all three of us didn't she? That probably makes her pretty close to an expert. You should take him downstairs," he nodded at Coran. "Dad and Sara are dying to meet him."

"I will," Aldon smiled. "And I should call Cassie's folks." They certainly deserved to know about this too!

"First things first," Ethan chuckled as he started putting clean sheets on the bed. "Get downstairs, have some lunch, and relax."

* * *

Edward's heart melted the moment he took Coran in his arms. Of course, he had known it would. It didn't matter what public perception was, the Fullmetal Alchemist was an absolute softie when it came to kids! "Handsome little thing isn't he? You do nice work," he teased, grinning up at Aldon, who looked haggard and shell-shocked.

Aldon blushed and shrugged. "Cassie did all the work. I've never felt more useless in my life than I have for the last several months, especially today."

"The good news is, starting today, you get to start paying back the debt for that," Ed chuckled, looking back down at his grandson. Talk about unreal, and yet it was an incredible sensation. "And you'd be surprised how much the little things mean."

"Congratulations, Little Brother," Sara grinned, giving Aldon a squeeze. "Why don't you sit down and eat before you collapse?"

"Thanks, Sis," Aldon nodded and sat, though he glanced over at his son.

Ed smiled. "Relax, I've got him. I still remember how to hold a baby." Really, he was enjoying every second of the time he had to bond with his grandson before everyone _else_ wanted a turn! The kid seemed quite content to sleep in Ed's arms.

Aldon looked a little more stable after getting some food and drink in his system. Ed wasn't surprised; the entire household had missed breakfast in the chaos, and almost lunch if he and Sara hadn't prepared food. When Ethan had come down to tell them that the baby was here and everything was fine, he'd wolfed down two sandwiches before going back upstairs! The only ones who hadn't eaten yet were Winry and Cassandra.

The phone rang. "I've got it," Sara got there first. "Hello? Yes. Everything's fine. Yes, the baby's here. No, no complications. All right, thank you." It wasn't a long call. "That was the hospital," she smirked after setting the phone down. "Doctor Gray's on her way over."

"Well that took long enough," Ethan laughed as he came down the stairs. "She just wants to look over Cassie and Coran at this point I'll bet. There's not much left to do after all."

"How are things upstairs?" Ed asked.

"Well I got things cleaned up," Ethan commented snagging a few slices of fruit out of the bowl and downing them. "Mom and Cassie are still in the bathroom, but I think they're almost done. Hey, can I hold him now?" he asked hopefully.

"Sure," Ed chuckled. "There's not much to it. Just make sure you've got his head." He held out the baby as Ethan took him, grinning.

"Hey there, Coran," Ethan looked down at the baby, whose eyes opened as he was handed off. "I'm your Uncle Ethan."

The phone rang. Sara, who was still closest, snagged it. "Hello? Oh! Yeah, sure. I'll get him." Ed watched her smirk as she covered the phone with one hand. "Hey, Ethan. It's _Lia_," she said in a slightly sing-song tone.

Ethan's eyes went wide. "Aw hell, I completely forgot! Here you go," he passed the baby back off to Aldon and actually vaulted _over_ the couch to reach the phone. He snatched it out of Sara's hand. "Lia! Hi! Yeah, I know. Sorry I'm late," he grinned, one hang going to the back of his head. "Yeah, I know. I was kind of busy helping deliver my nephew. Yeah,_ really_," he chuckled. "He's cute. You should stop by and see him sometime. Yeah, of course we can still go this afternoon. Right, okay. Bye!" He hung up and turned around.

"What was that about?" Sara asked, smiling smugly. "Sounded like a date."

Ethan's face went bright red. "_Best friend_, remember?" he countered. "We were going to go over to the pool this morning. Obviously I was a little busy. Can I go?" he looked over at Ed then, pointedly ignoring his sister's smug expression and Aldon's chuckle.

"Go ahead," Ed smiled. "You've done more than your share here already for one day. Just make sure your Mom doesn't need your help with anything else first."

"Right," Ethan nodded then darted upstairs.

"Lighten up on the kid you two," Ed commented as Sara and Aldon both chuckled. "Neither of you liked being teased. You_ still_ don't handle it well," he added with a pointed smirk at them both.

Sara looked contrite. "Sorry. You're right." Ed knew enough to know that his daughter had no business teasing _anyone_ about their personal life when it came to friends and romantic interests! He didn't push though. She always told him what she was willing to share, and he was good with whatever she wanted to tell him.

"I should call Cassie's folks," Aldon commented. "They'll never forgive me if I don't tell them this little guy's here," he smiled down at his son.

Ed nodded. "He's part of their family too. Give them a call and tell them to come by in a couple of hours. By then, the doctor will have come and gone and things should be a little less chaotic."

"Good idea," Aldon smiled as he stood up and walked to the phone. "It's been a pretty crazy morning so far!"

"Speaking of crazy," Sara chuckled. "I should probably get out of your hair too. It's a bit late for a run now. We can do that tomorrow instead, and I've got plans this afternoon."

"Plans?" Aldon paused and looked over at her curiously. "Friend plans?"

Sara rolled her eyes. "No I made plans with myself, Don. Yes friend plans. I'll probably be kicking Maes Mustang's ass at least once today, and then I'm meeting up with Franz and a couple of my friends from the office and going to see a play. You have a problem with that?"

"Lay off, Sis," Aldon grinned. "I was just asking."

"Right." Sara didn't look convinced. She shrugged and headed for the door. "See you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," Ed agreed, chuckling. He was glad his kids were mostly grown. At least now he didn't have to try and maintain discipline when they ignored him completely and teased each other anyway!

"Am I supposed to understand her?" Aldon asked as he picked up the phone and started dialing.

Ed shook his head. "No more or less than usual." Sometimes, he wasn't entirely sure Sara understood herself. Of course, that was the way of things. Ed had spent what seemed like years trying to understand_ himself_ at times. "Though I think you and I are lucky to be in the club of '_married and settled_.' It's a lot less confusing that way."

"Does the club have a motto?" Aldon asked, teasing.

Ed looked over at his son and grinned back. "Sure does. It's-"

"Edward," Winry called down from upstairs. "Could you bring up lunch?"

Ed reached for the tray he'd already prepared and then winked at his son as he finished his response to them both. "Yes, Dear!"

**June 9****th****, 1950**

No matter how hard he tried to wrap his head around it, even over two weeks later, Maes was still having trouble fully accepting or understanding his actions the other night. He had certainly never _meant _to kiss Sara. Okay, he had wanted to badly for years, but his actions that night hadn't been premeditated in any way. He was lucky Sara hadn't slugged him! In fact, her reaction had been surprisingly magnanimous and friendly; but depressingly honest. No, she wasn't in love with him, and he knew now that she never would be.

What confused him most was his own reaction. He'd kissed dozens – he refused to count up the exact number – of girls now; usually in the heat of the moment and often leading up to something a lot more intimate, though they weren't always driven by physical desire. Finally, Maes had dared to kiss the girl he'd wanted to for years…and while he certainly felt something, it wasn't the fireworks he'd expected. Nice as it had been, it was just a kiss; not some thermometer or barometer for measuring the heat of a relationship or magically declaring two people in love. He had half been expecting that reaction from Sara, but the reality depressed him and had him feeling more than a little lost.

He had been so _sure_ he was really in love with Sara; but what if it really wasn't anything more than some silly boyhood crush that hadn't faded? He had gotten mad at Sara for not telling Franz about her interest in him, but he hadn't been any better by not telling her sooner. If he had told her when they were younger, might it have made a difference?

It seemed that he was going to have a lot of soul searching to do in figuring out his own heart. If he wasn't really in love with Sara, than what did he want?

And what the _hell_ was it about Franz Heimler that made Sara so much more attracted to him? Knowing Sara, it was probably related to the fact that the man wasn't a flirt; just a hard working, friendly, slightly nerdy guy who was good looking enough that no guy would just right him off as '_not a threat_' if their girlfriends glanced his way. He'd never really heard a bad word about the guy. Well, that wasn't true. Franz' last girlfriend had spouted off her mouth a lot after they broke up, but Maes wasn't inclined to believe the majority of what she had said in spite and anger! Gina wasn't the innocent, sweet thing she liked to_ play_ at being.

Perhaps it was Sara's reaction, or at least her admission that she didlove Maes like a _brother,_ and that she would do so much for him, that made Maes more concerned at the moment about Sara's happiness. She was obviously into Franz, but did he feel the same? Maes had no idea what they had discussed, but he didn't want to see Sara hurt the way Maes felt right now, especially since Maes knew he had set himself up for his current disappointment.

So when he found the opportunity to talk to the man – something he had done only in passing – Maes took it. He was dropping some paperwork off up in Breda's offices that needed to be signed and returned at once, and when he walked in Franz Heimler was the only other man in the room.

"I can take care of those," Franz nodded professionally as he took them and looked through them. They were small stuff that Maes knew Franz was qualified to sign and return. Maes waited, trying not to fidget, until Franz brought them back over. "Tell Colonel Kane that Acquisitions will need a copy as well."

"I will," Maes nodded. He almost turned to leave, but stopped himself.

Franz, who was already turning to go back to his seat, stopped. "Is there something else you need, Major?"

"I'd like a word, if I may," Maes found the words leaving his mouth, startled that he dared to say them.

Franz's brow furrowed slightly, as if he had picked up on the fact that this wasn't really a _work_ related manner. He could probably figure out fast enough what it was about. "You're a ranking officer," he replied neutrally. "Is this about Major Elric?"

Out with it! He knew he didn't really have a _right_ to ask, except, perhaps, as Sara's friend. "What are your intentions towards Sara?" He was glad the statement wasn't longer; his tongue seemed to stick in his mouth.

It was a question the other man had not been expecting. "We're good friends," he replied, meeting Maes' gaze evenly. They were almost the same height, though Franz had a little on him. "My only _intentions_ are to assure that she is happy, like any good friend."

"And beyond that?" He knew that Sara had told him how she felt.

There was understanding in Franz's eyes, and Maes couldn't help but wonder if Sara had told Franz about the kiss. "To stay out of her way until she decides what she wants," he replied then. "To support her and keep her from feeling pressured into making any decision she's not comfortable with or unsure of."

Damn, the man really was that honorable. Maes didn't ask about Franz's _feelings_. That might be pushing things. "Good," Maes replied with a curt nod. "I don't want her to get hurt. She's my best friend."

"Then on that, we agree," Franz replied with a small, slightly amused smile. "That's the last thing I want."

Maes was pretty good at reading people; it was something both of his parents had trained into him, and that he had a natural instinct for. Lately, he had questioned that. But maybe his own preferences had just been clouding his judgment. Okay, so there was no _maybe_ about it. But he could tell Franz meant what he said. Like Sara, Franz would probably sacrifice his own feelings if someone found happiness elsewhere.

He wasn't going to tell Franz he didn't have to worry about that. Sara could tell him, but Maes figured he knew what he needed to know now. He wasn't sure what he had expected out of Heimler; jealousy, suspicion, annoyance, pity maybe. There wasn't any of that. "Good," Maes replied. "And… thanks." He turned then, and headed out of the office before he said or did something that made him feel even stupider!

Maes went back down to the office, trying not to be too depressed by the realization that he had probably never really had a chance with Sara at all. They were friends, and he would be happy to still have that. It was time to heal up and contemplate moving on.

**June 13****th****, 1950**

"Hey, I'm home!" Ed called out as he hung up his red jacket and kicked off his shoes by the door. He walked into the living room and spotted Ethan sprawled out on the couch on his stomach, his back to the door. "How was your day?" he asked, grinning.

Ethan didn't respond. He just laid there, his left arm hanging off the side of the couch, head resting on his folded right arm, his legs flat out behind him. Ed couldn't see his face, just the very short tail that Ethan's hair was now usually pulled back into. There were a couple of empty pop bottles on the table and Bounce was lying on the floor, looking up with a very sad and bored doggy expression.

"Ethan?" His smiled faded, replaced by concern. Winry poked her head out of the kitchen and crossed the living room. "Hey, what's eating him?" Ed asked her quietly.

"Lia's moving," Winry whispered as she stepped past him heading in the direction of her workshop. She paused briefly. "He just found out a couple of hours ago; he was like this when I got home."

Well that certainly explained the eerily familiar depressed slump of an about-to-turn-teenager his son had suddenly turned into! "I'll talk to him," Ed replied softly.

"Good," Winry nodded. "It was all I could do to get out of him what happened. It's like talking to a chair."

"It helps to speak _guy_," Ed smiled, kissed her cheek, and stepped down into the living room. He sat down on the edge of the coffee table and picked up one of the empty soda bottles. "You know, drowning your sorrows in root beer doesn't really work very well," he chuckled.

"And just what would you suggest?" Ethan sighed. From this angle, Ed could see his face; a pretty pathetic expression indeed, but one that Ed found familiar. He'd been in this kind of mood himself plenty of times; there was no doubt where Ethan got it. "And if you say anything about getting over it or time making the pain go away I'll transmute your socks into cacti."

"Depressed and moody too," Ed shook his head, trying not to smile too much. "If you try and look like a lovesick dog any harder you're going to be pretty convincing."

"You're really great at these motivational speeches aren't you, Dad?" Ethan's eyes flicked his direction as he scowled. He still didn't move though.

Ed laughed. "And you're turning into a perfect example of me at your age." He let it go a little then. "Look, Ethan, I'm really sorry to hear Lia's moving. Where are they moving to?"

"South City," Ethan replied. "Her Dad got a new job working for a company down there and they're leaving in two weeks!" Lia's father was a mid-level businessman.

Ed winced. That really wasn't a lot of time. "There are always letters and the phone," he replied. "And South City's not so far. That's what trains are for, and if you're down that way, you can always drop in."

"Stop being encouraging," Ethan grumped, but he rolled over on his side and looked up at Ed. "It's killing the mood."

"So you _like_ wallowing in misery, I get it," Ed smirked. "While all your plans get delayed cause you're lying around wasting good time."

"Got a better idea?" Ethan asked, though without any real sarcasm. Really, he looked like he wanted actual suggestions.

"Other than not wasting the next two weeks moping before she's even gone?" Ed chuckled. "Keep busy. Spend time together while you can, then work on other things when you can't. Sara mentioned something earlier today about getting some missions lined up with you in mind, so I suspect you'll be pretty busy the next few months!" Watching his son sulk, Ed was beginning to think that getting him out of Central for a while after Lia moved would be a _very_ good idea! "Also," he added, grinning more broadly this time. "I was thinking that, if you get your Xingese down enough in the next few months, maybe you and I would make a little research trip."

At that, Ethan's eyes widened. "To Xing? You mean it?"

"Well where else are we going to get the answers you're looking for?" Ed chuckled. "Or that I am for that matter." The last chapter of the book he'd been writing for the last few years just wasn't going to be complete until Ed got a few questions answered and, he had determined, that was pretty much going to have to involve a trip to Xing itself, however daunting, to find the answers. "Not immediately, obviously, but as soon as we can get things together and I can work out a way to get that much time off." A trip that long was going to require at least a couple of months. "And convince your mother." Ed suspected_ that _would be the difficult part.

"That could be tough," Ethan agreed, looking more thoughtful than depressed, already easily distracted by the idea of a trip to the country whose alchemy he wanted so badly to learn. Yep, just like Ed at that age; mercurial, but quick in the rebound.

"I'll worry about _her_," Ed smiled. "For now, you've got enough to get done, and a best friend to spend time with."

"Right," Ethan nodded, sitting up. "I think I'm gonna call Lia and see if she wants to do something. Catch a movie maybe. There's a suspense film playing downtown that just opened. You don't mind if I'm out late do you?"

"The one you have to define _late_ with is your mother," Ed laughed as he stood up. "You know my rules." Don't get in trouble, don't do anything illegal, don't do anything stupid, and be home when they said they'd be; those were the only major rules Ed had ever given as far as restrictions on coming and going once his kids had each reached about the age of twelve; for the most part anyway. They were rules Ed had never followed, but that was how he knew they were good ones!

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Ethan got up as well and headed for Winry's workshop door. "Relax. What are we going to do anyway? Pull pranks during the movie? It's not like Lia and I are little kids anymore."

Completely oblivious at the same age too. No, Ethan wasn't a little kid anymore. He wasn't a man yet though either, but really, that was exactly the age Ed worried about most!


End file.
